Growing Down
by Aquaman52
Summary: It's been six months since Simba's return to Pride Rock. The land is healthy, the pride is happy, and everything seems perfect...but what was that potion that fell on Simba's head? And where's Simba? And who's that new cub that looks just like him?
1. Chapter 1: Breaking and Entering

Fun fact: FanFiction won't let you upload documents at three at the morning. Or at least, it didn't last night...

Yeah, so, anyway, this was a product of both a severe bout of writer's block with Chapter 16 of "The Pridelanders" and also a strange bit of unexpected inspiration in the form of a story called "Attack of the 50 Foot Lioness" (which is not on this site, and is by a guy named Sam Simpson). It's kinda funny, 'cause this story is pretty much the polar opposite of that one, but I got an inkling of an idea for this a while ago and that story brought it all back. Go figure.

The status of this update is officially "side project", which means that unless I get some really positive reviews on it, I'll be focusing on "The Pridelanders", and as such the update schedule for this story will be sporadic at best. But maybe it'll be popular. I don't know. It's totally impossible to tell whether something you wrote is funny, because after you reread it editing for the fifth time it always sounds stupid. So I just left it in and assumed it was all right to begin with. Obviously, reviews on that would be appreciated.

So, without further ado, here's Chapter 1: "In Which Nothing Really Happens, but Also In Which Aquaman52 Manages To Write Less Than Four Thousand Words In An Update For The First Time In His Life". Booyah.

(Wait, but this author's note adds about five hundred so...well, that figures. Never mind.)

* * *

**Chapter 1: Breaking and Entering**

Twilight in the Pridelands is for many the most peaceful time of the day. The sun, having nearly reached the end of its daily trek across the cerulean sky, wanes into the horizon, brilliant tendrils of silver and gold seeming to reach back towards the blue as if to catch hold of a passing cloud and hold the glowing orb aloft for just a few moments more. The bountiful grasses below reflect this change as well, the iridescent blades tinged with silver in the fading light and the sprouting springtime trees glistening with fresh life. Yet the animals inhabiting this haven of tranquility are perhaps the best indications of its true nature. The mighty bull elephant with his beady black eyes, swinging his wrinkled trunk to and fro. The spindly antelope with her nose in the air, ready to flee at a moment's notice. The loping wildebeest with their sharpened horns, polishing off one last mouthful of grass.

And of course, the red-maned lion, limping through the grasslands and cursing like a drunk baboon.

"Gods _damnit_, that hurt!" the king of the jungle roared, his pained glare zeroed in on the purplish bruise pulsating under the fur on his right shoulder.

"Oh, would you quit complaining already?" his cream-colored companion replied with an eyeroll and an exasperated sigh. "It's your own damn fault, anyway."

"My fault? Whose genius idea was it to hike up half a mountainside at sunset?"

"I just suggested it. You were the one that agreed."

"What was it you said? 'Oh, come on, Simba! It'll be so _romantic_ up there!'"

"And it was. Until you decided to pull a triple klutz off the peak and slid halfway down ass-first."

"Excuse me: shoulder-first. If you're gonna insult me, do it properly."

"How thoughtless of me. Would it be better if I just called you an idiot again?"

"Depends. Would that be the seventh time today or the eighth?"

"I only had six, but whatever works for you."

"Then yes."

"Okay. You're an idiot."

"True. And you're lost."

"Am not."

"Are too."

"We're going the right way."

"We've been going the right way for an hour."

"Well, maybe if someone hadn't insisted we not stop for directions, we might be there already."

"Hey, I just suggested we keep going. You're the one that agreed."

"Why did I marry you again?"

"Something involving true love and a deranged monkey, I believe."

"Hmm…should've gone for the monkey. He's probably more light on his feet, in any case."

"Ow…you hurt your paw giving me that sucker punch to the gut?"

"I'll be fine. But thanks for asking."

"Sure thing. Are we there yet?"

"No."

"How about now?"

"Please stop talking."

"Nothing wrong with a little backseat driving."

"That wasn't a suggestion."

"All right, then. Lead on, Dr. Livingston."

Finally, the dusky grasslands were silent once more, only the whispering wind and an occasional grunt of pain from the larger of the two lions disturbing the scene. As the far corner of the sun began to slip underneath the earth, the pair of lions at long last reached their destination.

"Rafiki?" the larger one yelled, keeping his right forepaw completely off the ground. "You got a minute?"

The rustling leaves of the majestic baobab tree in front of him were all that replied. "Oh, he better be home," he growled under his breath as he limped forward to the base of the tree. "_Rafiki_! Come on, Rafiki, I just need some painkillers!"

"I don't think he's here, Simba," the other lion said as her mate continued to stare up into the lofty heights of the baobab. "He's probably over at Pride Rock or someth…wait, what are you doing?"

Simba didn't answer, seeing as he was halfway up the tree trunk at the time. With another leap and one last groan of agony, he had disappeared into the leafy depths high above the ground.

"Simba, get down from there!" the lioness shouted, a tiny bit of concern punctuating her angry tone. "If you fall out, I'm not dragging you back home!"

"Don't worry," the lion in the tree yelled back. "I'm just gonna grab the painkillers. I'll be out before you know it."

"Oh, come on, your shoulder can't possibly hurt that bad."

Suddenly, Simba's head popped out from between two branches. "No, it can't, Nala," he agreed. "But I highly doubt the representatives from the Mountain Pride that're coming tomorrow to finish the boundary talks are going to be convinced of anything if every other word out of my mouth is four letters long. So I'm just gonna grab a few painkillers and solve that problem before it starts."

"Do you even know what they look like?" Nala yelled after her mate as he faded back into the interior of the tree.

"Of course I know what they look like!" came his indignant reply. "I've seen the bag a million times!"

Nala rolled her eyes and sat down, extending her paw toes in front of her and putting one down for every second that passed. When she ran out of toes, Simba spoke up again.

"Hey, was the painkiller the red powder or the blue?"

"I thought it was green," Nala replied with a shake of her head and a tiny smile.

"No, the green powder was the cough medicine. I know that, at least."

Nala sighed and shook her head once more. "I'm coming up there."

"I don't think that's such a good idea…"

"Oh, relax," she interrupted, dipping into a crouch as she reached the spot on the trunk where Simba had gone up. "I won't tell anyone you needed help from a _girl_."

"No, Nala, wait a second!"

But it was too late. In two bounds, Nala had clawed her way up the trunk and entered the tree, where she quickly realized exactly why Simba hadn't wanted her to come up.

"Well, this is cozy," her mate mumbled with a grin as their pelts ground together in the cramped space. There was barely enough room for her to turn her head and raise an eyebrow at him.

"I did warn you," he continued a moment later, maneuvering himself around so that he was facing in the opposite direction as his less-than-jubilant mate.

"Let's just find the painkillers and get out of here," Nala grumbled. "And you better not be staring at my ass the whole time."

"Oh, don't worry, babe…" Simba said with a smirk as he pinched a bit of her flank in between his claws, making her yelp in surprise. "I promise I'll look for the drugs some of the time."

The two lions began to circle around the tiny treetop, both searching diligently for the elusive relief powder. Well, at least, _one_ of them was. Mostly.

"Found it!" Nala said a minute later, dragging out a small lump of something from behind a pile of dirty carved wooden bowls. Simba craned his neck and caught a glimpse of the small brown bag knotted with a small weaved string, immediately recognizing it as the one he had seen Rafiki carry with him when one of the lionesses got hurt during a hunt.

"Nice going, Nal'!" Simba grunted as he began to squirm back around to get to the bag. "What color is it?"

"Purple."

"Figures. Lemme just get a bit of it, and we can get out of-"

Suddenly, Nala's eyes went wide. "Simba, look out!" she shouted, but by the time her mate heard her he had already bumped the gnarled branch stocked with various bowls and bags containing, as Simba often said, "Aiheu-knows-what". As Nala watched in horror, the entire branch swayed from the impact of the lion's bulk, sending the contents of the containers careening around about them. Simba watching with equally wide eyes, realizing that he was stuck right behind the towering display of medicinal prowess that was seemingly in the process of spilling its contents all over his back. But as Nala cringed and Simba shut his eyes, the branch slowly began to steady again. By the time Simba cracked his eyelids open a moment later, the branch was completely still once more, with all of its various contents still firmly in place.

Simba let out the breath he had been holding in with a heavy sigh. "Whew," he said, giving his mate a shaky grin. "You know, for a minute there I thought one of 'em was gonna fall off and hit m-" At that moment, Simba fell silent again as a flimsy-looking wooden bowl, which had been teetering right at the very top of the branch, finally slipped off and shattered against his head.

"Ow!" he screamed as the liquid inside the bowl soaked through his mane and dripped down his face, a few drops entering his nose and mouth.

"The bowl…" Nala whispered as she eyed the shattered remnants of the hand-crafted container.

"My _head_!" Simba retorted as he tried to shake off the viscous substance to no avail. "Gods, what is this stuff?"

"I don't know," Nala replied worriedly, finally remembering her mate again. "Don't drink it."

"Oh, thank you, Captain Obvious," Simba growled. "And the sky is what color again?"

Nala scowled and looked away. "Excuse me for trying to help," she muttered as she pushed past Simba and began to climb back down to the ground. "The painkiller's over in the corner."

Suddenly, Simba's shoulder didn't hurt as much. After a minute or so of deliberation, he slid back down the trunk and padded over to where his mate was lying a few yards away, facing into the sunset with a frustrated look still encompassing her face.

"Hey, I'm…I'm sorry I snapped at you back there," Simba said softly as he lay down next to her. "I didn't mean to hurt your feelings. I just got kinda frustrated and…I shouldn't have said that. I'm sorry."

Nala glanced over at him and met his eyes, her brilliant green orbs seeming to give off their own light in the dim radiance of the evening. After a long moment of contemplation, she sighed and put on a faint smile.

"I forgive you," she said. "Just think about what you say next time, okay?"

Simba smiled warmly back. "Okay," he whispered as he scooted closer to her and gave her a gentle lick on the cheek. He moved to nuzzle her, only to have her lean away with a knowing look in her eyes.

"What?" he asked a bit worriedly. "I'm just trying to…"

"Oh, I know," she replied quickly. "But aren't you forgetting something?"

"I'm sure I am," he chuckled. "What did I forget?"

"Two things: first of all, you've still got all that goo in your mane, and I'd rather you not smear it all over me too. And second of all…we never did make it up that cliff today."

"Meaning…" Simba continued, beginning to have an inkling of an idea what she was playing at.

"Meaning there's a pretty empty watering hole over there," she finished, motioning back behind her with a jerk of her head. "And you still owe me a romantic moment."

Simba got to his feet, the bruise on his shoulder utterly forgotten. "Well, then," he murmured into her ear as he came up beside her. "One romantic moment coming right up."

With twin secretive smiles on their face, the two lions made for the watering hole. Behind him, the baobab tree stood just as tall as always, unflinching and unchanging. Except for one spot, right in the center of the secluded clearing at its core, right where the last few drops of the liquid that had spilled all over Simba had fallen. And as the two lions reached the deserted lake, they had no idea of the miracle occurring just a few hundred yards away, for right where the liquid had fallen, the ancient wood of the baobab tree was growing steadily brighter and cleaner, until by the time several hours had passed, the spots gave off the scent of fresh sap. The potion had been completely absorbed by the tree, and before long there was only one remaining trace that it had ever been there at all.

In the exact spot where the drops had come to rest, where old, gnarled tree bark had once been, there was only clean, fresh, seemingly new wood.

• • •

Thirty minutes later, the sun had nearly sunk entirely beneath the far-off horizon, only a think sliver of orange still looking out upon the Pridelands. This fact went unnoticed by the two lions wrapped up in each other's forelegs by the side of a picturesque watering hole, both of whom were still damp from their romp in the nearby lake. They were also slightly out of breath, since they had been playing in the water together and, well, one thing had led to another. Actually, one thing had led to several anothers, but that's hardly relevant.

"So did I make up for my triple klutz yet?" Simba murmured, continuing to absentmindedly stroke the back of his mate's neck to her obvious enjoyment.

Nala thought for a moment as she shifted a bit closer to the rumble emanating from her partner's chest. "I'll let it slide this time," she muttered back as she weaved her forepaws into his mane and placed her muzzle right in front of his, putting her just close enough to lovingly slide her tongue across his nose. Simba smiled and returned the favor, continuing to purr as she played with his mane hair.

"So you think we should start heading back any time soon?" Simba said as he began to gently groom behind Nala's ears, drawing a particularly ecstatic purr from deep within the beige lioness.

"I suppose that would be the responsible thing to do," she mumbled, her voice slurred by a deep fatigue brought on by her mate's affection.

Simba stopped for a moment. "That's a no, then?"

"That's a no."

"Good," he said with a grin. "'Cause I'm not finished with you just yet."

Nala's smile grew as Simba began his grooming again, and she shifted a bit to allow him easier access to the backs of her ears. Her paws seemed to move of their own accord, stroking back and forth along the almost invisible valley between his shoulder blades, in the way that only she knew he adored. Suddenly, she stopped and pulled her paws free, her brow creasing as a strange thought occurred to her.

Simba was quick to pick up on the change in his mate's mood. "What is it?" he asked, moving back to look her in the eyes. "Is something wrong?"

"No, it's just…" Nala muttered, trapping a few strands of his mane hair in between her paw toes and extending them out to their full length. "I swear your mane was longer earlier."

Simba glanced down at the only part of his mane he could see, on his chest. "Doesn't look any different to me," he said with a shrug. "What makes you say that?"

"I don't know," she replied, sounding just as confused as her mate. "I just can't help thinking it looks different somehow…"

Simba looked at his chest once more, but still didn't see anything out of the ordinary. "Maybe it's just the light," he suggested tenderly. "I'm sure it's just as long as always."

"Yeah, you're probably right," Nala agreed before turning her green eyes up towards the auburn set beside her. "So what was that you said a second ago?"

Simba's eyebrows shot up. "What, about heading back? We can leave any time you want, y'know."

Nala only blinked in reply, her deadpan expression providing endless amusement for the red-maned lion at her side. "Oh, _that_," he continued a moment later with a sly smirk. "Well, I guess it doesn't even matter if you're still too tired…"

Nala's lips curled into a knowing smile of her own. "I think the better question might be…" she whispered as she pulled herself back in close to her mate and licked his cheek, her heart beginning to race as her creamy underbelly ground against the deeper yellow pelt of her mate. "Are _you_ still too tired?"

"Actually, I'm not," he said, an excited air of curiosity overtaking his once passionate inflection. "It's kinda weird. I was tired a while ago, but now I feel like I've got even more energy now than I had earlier…"

"Simba?" Nala said suddenly in a bright voice. "Do you remember that conversation we had a few days ago about 'ruining the moment'?"

"Am I doing it again?"

"Yeah, kinda."

"I see. And how do I fix that again?"

"Well…" Nala said pensively as she rolled onto her opposite side and faced away from Simba. "You could start by rubbing my back."

"And then we'll work from there?"

"That sounds about right."

"You know, I might not even be in the mood anymore after that."

"Oh, I think you'll manage."

"You're enjoying this, aren't you?"

"Immensely. Start rubbing."

With a playful sigh, Simba gave in and laid his paws back on his mate, this time kneading his paw toes against the firm muscles lining her spine. As Nala purred and wriggled with delight, Simba began to smile as well, drawing himself in closer and closer until he was near enough to give her a gentle nip on the back of her neck. Nala gasped slightly and felt her heart flutter at the contact, and almost involuntarily she shifted closer still, inviting Simba to continue peppering her neck and back with a heavenly mixture of licks and love bites. Both lions were fully intoxicated with the other's presence, the heat of their bodies quickening their breaths and sending tingles of desire all the way down to their tails. As Simba finally slid his paws back over to his mate's front, Nala's own forepaws snapped up to cover them, her paw toes finding the creases between his and effortlessly slipping inside. As Nala's paws slowly began to pull Simba's paws down her chest and towards her belly, Simba nipped at her ears one last time, finally hearing an impassioned moan sneak out from between his lover's lips.

And as Nala rolled onto her stomach and beckoned her mate forward, Simba's mane, unbeknownst to either of them, continued to shorten.

• • •

By the time Simba and Nala finally returned to the den inside Pride Rock, the sun had long since retreated into its own abode deep beneath the soil to sleep and wait for the morning, leaving only the moon and its tapestry of accompanying stars to guide the two lovers home. But despite Simba's earlier wisecracks, Nala was indeed more than capable of leading them back to the den, and before the red-maned lion could even think of questioning her judgment again they were back within the familiar shadow of the majestic monolith.

"You think anyone stayed up to wait for us?" Simba whispered as he followed Nala up the narrow path to the base of the promontory where he had once been presented to the kingdom so long ago.

"Not after the hunt today, they didn't," Nala replied in a low tone. "I'm surprised _I _stayed up to wait for you."

Simba chuckled softly and bumped his head against his mate's. "Well, I'm sure glad you did," he muttered. "And it was worth it, right?"

Nala turned and nuzzled him back, giving him a quick lick under his chin for good measure. "I'll say so," she replied warmly, pulling back to meet his eyes again. Only a moment later, though, her heartfelt expression fell away, once again replaced by one of intrigue.

"Okay, now I'm sure it's shorter," she said confidently.

"What, my mane?" Simba said, rubbing a forepaw against the back of his neck self-consciously. "You really think so?"

"Yes. Or…oh, I don't know," Nala answered, once again sounding more than a little unsure of herself. "I can't even see straight right now. I'm probably just tired. I mean, how could it be getting shorter?"

Simba smiled and nudged her towards the darkness of the cave. "Well, if it's all fallen out by morning, I'll let you say 'I told you so'. Deal?"

"Deal. But I would've said it anyway."

"Touché. Let's go to bed."

With that, the two made their way inside, stepping over and around the motionless bodies of their fellow pridemembers until they reached the unoccupied pedestal at the center reserved for the king and his mate. Nala reached it first and lied down on her stomach, only to have Simba lay down beside her a second later and pull her gently onto her side and into his warm embrace. Nala chuckled quietly, secretly relishing in her mate's affection, and wasted no time in rolling over to face him and tucking her head under his chin.

"Good night, Nala," Simba whispered as his paws settled around the center of her back. "I love you."

Nala yawned. "Good night, Simba," she replied in a voice already heavy with sleep. "I love you too."

Fatigue hit both lions like a charging rhinoceros. Nala nestled her nose into Simba's chest, his muted scent filling her senses and lulling her to sleep the same way it had every night of the last six months. The Pridelands had grown so much in that time, and so had Simba. He had gone from being a determined, yet unsure adolescent to a strong, capable leader…not to mention, a pretty good mate on the wayside. And as she let sleep overtake her and whisk her away to a night of sweet dreams and peaceful slumber, she remembered one last time how lucky she was to have so much.

Little did she know how quickly all that could change in just a single night.

* * *

Well, I did say that not much happened...or did it? o_0

...yeah, nothing really happened. Sorry. But on the plus side, I did get to throw in a bit of some more mature Simba/Nala stuff, so that was...interesting. To write, I mean. And we're all done with the exposition, so next chapter is when it gets really interesting (assuming you like crazy sci-fi stuff that starts out with a tenuous grip on reality and goes down from there). So let's be optimistic with that.

As always, reviews are appreciated. And if anyone at any point has an idea for a better title to this, I'll love to hear it, because quite frankly I hate the one I have now. So, with that in mind, Aquaman out.


	2. Chapter 2: An Awkward Morning

Guess who's back?

Okay, so I guess it wasn't really all that long of a break when you include "The Pridelanders" too, but I'm referring more to the fact that it's been nearly three months since I updated this particular story. And quite honestly...I don't think this chapter is as good as the previous one. I mean, it's got a few lines I'm proud of, but there wasn't really any opportunity to get a really long conversation going, so there isn't really any of what was popular in the previous chapter. But then again, I didn't think the last chapter was any good either, and that one turned out pretty good, so...yeah. You should probably just ignore my ramblings in the future.

So, this is where an actual plot beings to take shape (which is good). And I suppose it's also worth mentioning that this chapter marks the first time I have ever actually used the word "sex" in one of my stories! That means I'm mature or something, right? Let's go with that.

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**Chapter 2: An Awkward Morning**

Daybreak arrived with a flourish of red and gold, the sunlight lazily stretching over the faded grasses of the African savannah and casting long shadows behind everything it touched. As the sun began to crest over the horizon, the Pridelands gradually came to life. Herds of animals tall and small emerged from their respective dens and burrows, yawning and squinting in the bright morning light. But one creature in particular, a wiry baboon with sleek gray hair and a face streaked with bold hues of blue and red, showed no signs of early morning fatigue. In fact, he had already been awake for almost an hour.

Rafiki set a lively pace through the grasslands, humming a lively tune to himself and keeping a tight grip on the thick wooden staff in his right hand. Tied to the end of the stick were the fruits of the previous night's labors: a varied assortment of natural herbs and berries destined to be made into ingredients for his medicines and accompaniments to his next meal. He had only meant to be gone for an hour or two before sunset, but he'd happened upon a massive bush that was heavy with the deliciously ripe berries he now had stored in a pouch tied to his staff, and he simply couldn't resist their alluring scent. And then, the evening weather had been so delightfully warm that he had decided to go ahead and spend the whole night lying out under the stars. If anyone were to ever accuse Rafiki of being an impulsive creature, he would be the first to agree.

But now it was time to return to his tree and get ready for the coming day. After all, he was the only medicine monkey for ten miles, and certainly the only creature within fifty who knew as much about the healing powers of the earth and its natural gifts. He didn't get many chances to relax; come to think of it, that was probably why he had been so quick to do so the night before. Life worked in mysterious ways, he supposed, and that was just fine with him.

It wasn't a long walk back to the twisted and homely baobab tree that Rafiki called home, and so it was just a few minutes later when the eccentric shaman found himself at its base. As he gripped his staff in his teeth and flexed the fingers on all four of his hands, Rafiki noticed a series of rough gouges in the gnarled bark. The newly exposed wood beneath was still fresh; someone had obviously paid him an unscheduled visit last night. A lion, by the size of the scuff marks, perhaps even two. A wry smile flitted across the monkey's face as he identified the source of the scratches. He only knew of one lion likely to take matters into his own paws like that. Simba may have changed a lot in the last four years, but one thing he certainly still retained from his cubhood was his impatience. And if Simba had been here, Nala couldn't have been far behind. Which meant they'd probably both been up in the top of the tree at one point or another.

And which also meant that he probably had one hell of a mess to clean up in the top of the tree.

Rafiki's suspicions were confirmed a moment later as he shimmied up the trunk and entered the loft perched at its very center. The damage wasn't as bad as he'd feared, but the shattered remnants of one of his prized bowls lay in plain sight near the far corner. With a sigh and a shake of his head, Rafiki propped up his staff against a sturdy branch and got to work cleaning up the mess.

As Rafiki swept away what was once an intricately carved resin-stained container, he began to wonder what had become of its contents. There was nothing left of it that he could see…it must have been one of the powders he had ground up last week. Rafiki sighed again. It had taken him two entire days to make those powders. Well, at least it was only one gone. Seeing as he'd had two full-grown lions poking around his living space, he was lucky the baobab was even still standing.

Once the bowl was cleared away, Rafiki stood up and began to turn around. He'd have to take inventory of his remaining medicines to see which one had gone missing. But before he could make his way over to the spiraling branches that contained his life's work, an odd feeling swept over him and made him stop dead in his tracks. There was something peculiar about the tree, something he couldn't quite identify. A strange smell, familiar but somehow utterly foreign as well. He inhaled deeply, and the scent of fresh sap flooded his senses. His tree was much too old to be producing enough sap to make that strong of a smell. Where was it coming from?

Rafiki looked down at the wood between his lower hands. He saw it immediately: a few inches in front of the fourth finger on his right hand was an irregular white spot of fresh, young wood surrounded by the ancient wood of the baobab that had been sanded smooth by years of wear and tear. A puzzled grimace overtook the baboon's face. The spot cut right through the numerous rings of the tree's trunk, and there was no sign that the sections covered by the blemish had ever been there at all. How was this possible?

The answer hit Rafiki like a punch in the stomach. He'd only ever seen something like this happen once: he had eaten one too many miracle berries and drank a little too much of a delightful concoction he'd made from them, and the next thing he knew it was morning and he had a sore back, a splitting headache, and a whole bowlful of gooey translucent liquid, the origins of which he could only guess at. A few tests on local plants and bugs had shown the substance's horrifying power in vivid detail, and that very same day he'd hidden the bowl away at the very top of his tree, so that no creature, including himself, would ever be able to reach it. In a flash, Rafiki clambered up the rough boughs of the tree until he could see the lofty branch where he had last seen the bowl of mysterious liquid. The liquid and the bowl were gone.

The branch was empty.

For the first time in a long time, Rafiki swore. No wonder the bowl had broken; it must have fallen all the way down from the very top of the tree. And the gods only knew where the rest of the potion inside had gotten to. All he had been able to find were just a few drops in his tree.

Rafiki took a deep breath and tried to calm himself. The wind probably knocked the bowl off the top of the tree, so the wind had probably carried the droplets all across the Pridelands. That wasn't too bad. It wasn't as if a single drop of the stuff could do any real harm…

Then, a second realization nearly caused Rafiki's legs to fall out from under him. The wind couldn't have blown the bowl down. It was much too heavy, and he'd made sure to wedge it tightly into a crook in the branch. It would've taken a force much more powerful than the wind to dislodge…like the weight of an adult lion.

Or the weight of two very specific adult lions that just so happened to make up the entire royal family of the Pridelands.

Rafiki swore again and slid down the baobab's trunk all the way to the ground, grabbing the staff along the way. He had to see for himself whether his fears about the final resting place of the potion were right. If they weren't, he could rest easy knowing that Simba and Nala were safe. But if they were…Aiheu help them. Aiheu help the kingdom.

And most of all, Aiheu help _him_.

• • •

Nala awoke slowly, though it was more out of enjoyment of the morning than reluctance to get up. This was her favorite part of the day; it always has been. The den would still be warm from all of the sleeping bodies contained in it, the air outside would be cold but refreshing, and the sun would be cresting over the horizon in an elaborate and spectacular display of the earth's natural beauty. It was in these few precious moments that she felt completely at peace. The hassles of the day wouldn't begin for a few more seconds, and she could lie here and savor that innocent sense of well-being without having to give any thought to any of them. It was wonderful.

Sometimes, Simba would still be asleep beside her, and she would be able to nestle herself back into his chest and drift back off as a sluggish spark of devotion danced down her spine. But most of the time, he would be up with or even before the sun. He had always been an early riser, and ever since he became king it seemed like there was always something for him to take care of. But he hadn't faltered under the pressure; in fact, he seemed to enjoy it. Nala guessed it was because he wanted to make up for all the years he'd wasted out in the jungle with Timon and Pumbaa.

This was one of those mornings. As soon as she became aware of the smooth rock beneath her, she also became aware of the significant lack of body heat that would have revealed the presence of her mate. Well, that couldn't be helped. She should be glad that her lifelong partner cared as much about his royal duties as he did his mate. She should be grateful that he was so dedicated to his job.

But as usual, the little voice inside her head telling her what she should be grateful for wasn't very convincing.

Nala yawned and tried to stretch, but quickly discovered that her front legs were weighed down by something warm and fuzzy. She glanced down toward her toes and saw a furry, yellow-tinged head draped across her ankles. It was a lion cub, a boy by the looks of the messy tuft on top of his head, with black-rimmed ears and a tiny nose currently embedded in the downy fur lining her neck. He must have fallen asleep there during the night.

Nala smiled to herself and gave the cub a gentle lick on the forehead. He seemed familiar somehow; he probably belonged to one of the other lionesses in the hunting party. Scar hadn't devoted much thought to keeping rogues out of the Pridelands during his reign, and as a result many of the lionesses had borne litters of cubs over the past few years. Simba hadn't minded the cubs when he took over; he knew from experience what it was like to be separated from your parents at such a young age, so he had been quite happy to let all the cubs stay around. And because of the close bonds the lionesses had formed with each other under Scar's oppressive rule, their cubs generally thought of all the lionesses as their mothers. Nowadays, the cubs slept almost anywhere they wanted to. It wasn't uncommon to wake up with a cub or even two or three cuddled up next to you.

Nala yawned again. She was fully awake now. Might as well get up. After gently freeing her paws from the grasp of the cub, the queen of Pride Rock got to her feet and took a deep breath, shivering a bit as the crisp morning air reached her lungs. It was colder than usual, had been all week. There wasn't much Nala hated more than being cold. Except for cramping up during a hunt. And maybe spiders.

The fluffy white clouds that had dominated the horizon the day before had dissipated overnight. As Nala stepped out of the den and onto the base of the giant promontory that distinguished her lifelong home from the surrounding landscape, all she could see above her was a sea of seamless blue and gold sky. With nothing to obscure it, the light from the rising sun was intense, but the beige lioness could still see well enough to make it out to the tip of the promontory, where she gingerly lied down on the chilly rust-colored rock. Maybe she could see where Simba went off to from up here.

Nala's gaze drifted lazily around the Pridelands. Bountiful green and yellow grasses stretched into the horizon as far as she could see, but nowhere among them could she spot a flash of red mane or golden fur. The watering hole was empty as well, with only a few straggling members of the nearby zebra and wildebeest herds languishing by the edge of the rippling blue-tinted lake.

Nala tried to hold in her disappointed sigh, and gave up on the effort a few moments later. If Simba was this far away already, he'd probably be gone the whole day. And when or possibly even _if_ he got back that night, he'd probably fall asleep right away. And after a whole day of hunting and dealing with the responsibilities of being queen…well, wasn't it fair to want to unwind a little bit? A tiny voice in he back of Nala's mind told her she was being selfish, but a much bigger voice was beyond caring about that right now. She'd already lost him once; now, she didn't ever want him to leave.

Nala sighed again. _Come on, girl_, she told herself. _It's all in the past now._ _He's not going anywhere…he'll be back tonight. Think about something else. Like…hunting. Think about hunting. Think about crouching down and being one with the earth, and that split second before the kill where you and your prey are the only things left on earth. Think about taking that nice, big zebra back home, and watching all the cubs' faces light up, and watching his eyes twinkle as you try not to look…_

_Screw it. I'm hopeless. He better get back soon._

The pattering of little paws behind her brought Nala out of her reverie. As she glanced back towards the noise, she saw the cub that had been sleeping beside her step out of the den, blinking and yawning in the glow of the morning sun. Seemingly without noticing her, he meandered out of the tip of the promontory and lied down by her side. Out here in the light, he looked even more familiar. Nala tried to connect a name with the stocky but still innocent face beside her, but came up blank.

After a moment of silence, the cub turned to look at her. "You know, I've seen this sunrise a million times, and it still never gets old," he said warmly, his voice bold and slightly raspy with a definite twang to it. Nala nodded, but her attention was still focused on her mental search for the cub's identity. That voice sounded so familiar, but she couldn't have come up with the child's name if her life had depended on it. He had kind of a cheeky air about him…maybe he was one of Hima's cubs? No, hers were older than this one…this cub couldn't have been more than nine months.

"Of course, I'll probably be bored out of my mind in ten minutes anyway," the cub continued with a smile. "Guess some things never change, huh?"

"I guess so," Nala replied. He definitely belonged to Sikiva. He was too well-spoken to have anyone but her as his mother. But then again, she was so uptight, and he seemed like such a free spirit...

"You remember when you used to spend all morning trying to drag me out to see this?" the cub asked. Before he saw Nala's quizzical stare, he was talking again. "Gods, you drove me insane doing that…"

_Doing what now?_

"And then all of a sudden, I couldn't get enough of it. Now I feel like the sunrise is…it's different, y'know? I mean, before it just meant it was time to get up, but now it's how I know I'm home. It's how I know I get to come outside and see the Pridelands, and all the herds and the grasses and the watering holes." The cub glanced up at Nala, and smiled again. "It's how I know I get to come outside and see you."

Nala chuckled and returned the cub's smile. Despite how strange his previous statement had been, she couldn't help but be a little flattered. She had an admirer. She must be a better queen that she'd thought.

"But I gotta say, I think I like the sunset better," said her companion out on the promontory as he turned back towards the radiant horizon. "It's when everything comes alive again one last time. It's warm, it's calming, it's beautiful...and then, of course, there's the night life."

The cub swiveled his head around and gazed straight into her eyes, an eerily knowing look spilling out of his own auburn pair. "Like last night's night life."

A tiny pang of apprehension flashed through Nala's belly, and she shifted uncomfortably. Why was he looking at her like that?

"What do you mean?" she asked.

An impish grin spread across the cub's face. "Oh, come on, don't tell me you forgot already," he laughed as he gave Nala a playful nudge in the shoulder. "I thought you were having fun?"

The knot in the elder lioness's stomach grew. "What…"

"No?" the cub went on. "Well, that can be fixed easily enough…" he added in a sultry voice.

_Oh, gods above, he is _not_ talking about…_

"What d'you say, babe?" the cub finished. "You feel like having some more fun today?"

_Oh, gods above, he is._

"_Excuse me?_" Nala nearly shouted. Half of her was shocked at how twisted the little cub's brain, but the other half was just pissed off at what he had taken her for. Did he really think she could be seduced that easily?

A look of utter confusion overtook the cub's face. "What?" he asked in a puzzled voice. "What did I say?"

"You know exactly what you said! Don't you know better than that?"

"What, asking for sex is bad?"

"_Yes!_"

Now the cub was more incredulous than confused. "Since when?"

"Since…just forget it! Where's your mother?"

"Probably still asleep. What d'you need to see her for?"

"I'm going to inform her of what her son has been thinking about doing to the queen of Pride Rock."

The cub rolled his eyes. "Well, considering I'm _married_ to the queen of Pride Rock, I doubt she'll be very surprised."

Another wave of shock briefly silenced the lioness, but revulsion quickly overrode it. "You're…_what?_"

"Married, Nala. To you. At a big, gigantic ceremony with every lion within twenty miles in attendance, where I forgot my vows and Timon got into the bug juice and spent the whole night singing "Kumbaya" at the top of his lungs. That wedding?"

"And you really expect me to believe that _you_ were the groom?"

"Well…yeah," the cub said in a tone one would normally reserve for someone with slight brain damage. "'Cause I kinda _was_."

"I can't believe you! What would possibly make you think we're married?"

"Oh, for the love of the gods, Nala…" the cub growled. "This isn't funny. I'm sorry, okay? Now will you please stop playing around?"

_All right. That's it. He dies now._

Nala narrowed her gaze and leaned toward the cub until nose was less than an inch away from his. "Let's get one thing straight, okay?" she hissed in a slow, dangerous tone that usually made Simba's voice rise a couple octaves wherever she used it around him. "You are a cub, and I am an adult. I am not married to you, and you are not married to me. You are out of line, and by the end of this I am going to make sure that you know that."

"Think that was three things, actually…"

"You are _asking_ for it, mister!"

"Define 'it' again?"

Instead of replying, Nala just growled deep in her throat. She was done trying to reason with this indignant little bastard. He didn't need to be reasoned with; he needed to be castrated. She opened her jaws and clamped them around the nape of the cub's neck, intending to take him straight to his mother, or to the edge of the nearest cliff. Preferably the latter. But before she could get a good grip, the cub squirmed away, stumbling and rolling onto his back in the process.

"What are hell are you doing?" he shouted, his patience clearly taxed.

"Well, assuming I don't kill you first, I'm taking you straight to your mother, and I don't care if she's in a damn coma. She's going to hear about this," she answered as she stalked toward him, the cub scooting away with his back legs all the while. Finally, she caught up to him and pinned him down with a forepaw to the chest. "And after that, I think the king might want to hear what you've said to his wife," she added with a malicious smirk. With that, she bent down and grabbed the cub around the neck again, this time making sure to bite hard enough to keep his neck sore for weeks. This little punk had no idea who he was getting into. Simba got worried when she stubbed a toe hunting; if he knew what this disrespectful rat had said to her, he'd…

Okay, he'd probably throw up laughing first. But then he'd be angry. Or else.

"Just wait till Simba gets home…" she murmured through the cub's fur as she began to lift him off the ground.

The cub coughed, stuttered, then finally got one last sentence out. "Wha…_Nala!" _he screamed at the top of his lungs. "_I am Simba!_"

He was lying, of course. He had to be lying. He'd been lying this whole time. But at that exact moment, right when Nala should've just kept walking, she hesitated. Because at that exact moment, she finally recognized the cub's voice. It bubbled up from deep within her memories, from when she was a young cub: a raspy, twangy voice shouting at her to wait up, whispering in her ear once everyone else was asleep, yelling for the hyenas chasing after her to leave her alone. The voice she'd grown up with. The voice she'd once sworn she would never forget.

Simba's voice.

Nala opened her jaws and let the cub crumple onto the rocky surface of the promontory. She stared down at his prone form with a mixture of curiosity and disbelief, which he returned with a much harsher look of annoyance.

"You wanna tell me what that was all about, Nala?" he growled.

"You're Simba," she said quietly, through it was really more of a question than a statement.

The cub let his head fall back onto the stone beneath him and drug a forepaw across his eyes. "Yes, Nala," he replied. "I'm Simba."

A gut-wrenching bolt of fear shot through Nala's heart. This was Simba? How could this have happened? What was she going to do? Was she really married to a nine-month-old cub?

_Okay, just…just calm down for a minute,_ the beige lioness thought to herself as she sucked in a deep breath and let it out slowly. _He might still be lying. Maybe I should…test him or something. Yeah, that's a good idea. And in the meantime, stop panicking. It's…unbecoming. Or whatever Mom really called it._

Nala locked eyes with the cub and stared him down as best she could. "What's my favorite color?" she asked forcefully.

The cub's eyebrows drooped into a deadpan expression. "Are you serious?"

"Answer the question!"

The cub let out a loud, frustrated sigh. "Red," he answered apathetically. "But it used to be blue until I pushed you into the watering hole and you couldn't get out for ten minutes."

_Damnit. _"What's your grandfather's name?"

"Ahadi. Married to Uru, father of Mufasa and Taka, also known as Scar. You want your side of the family too?"

_Damnit. _"What's your favorite kind of meat?"

"Impala, because it was only thing I could manage to catch when I was living with Timon and Pumbaa." Nala faltered, and the cub cocked an eyebrow. "Are we done now?"

_Damnit, damnit, _damnit_!_

Nala wracked her brains, desperately trying to think of something that only Simba could ever possibly know. Something that he never would've told anyone, and that no one but her would have ever found out about. Something that they had only shared with each other.

She needed something special. She needed a secret.

And just a few seconds later, she came up with a perfect one. Nala steadied herself and steeled her gaze. He would never be able to fake an answer to this.

"When we were cubs, what was the song we used to sing about Zazu behind his back?" she said, intensity blazing in her eyes.

For a brief moment, the cub looked confused. "What?"

"The song. We sang it a million times when he wasn't looking. You made it up just a couple weeks before your father died. What were the words?"

The cub glanced away, deep in thought. "Umm…yeah, it was, uh…something about a banana…"

"Yeah…" Nala confirmed, her heart pounding.

For a few agonizing seconds, the cub remained silent, his eyes shut and his brow tensed. Then, with some hesitation, he started to speak.

"Zazu had a banana beak, yellow as can be…"

"…and if you buried it in the ground, it'd grow into a tree. Oh, gods above, it is you," Nala finished in a single breath, stumbling back in shock. It was him. It was really him. This little, tiny cub was her husband.

She was married to a cub.

Nala sat down hard, her eyes as big as mangoes and her forepaw clamped tightly over her open mouth. A dizzying wave shock and confusion flowed down her spine and back again, and her paws felt like they were filled with sand. Her head, too, for that matter. How was this possible? _Was_ this even possible?

_Hey, maybe I'm insane. That might be it. Ha ha! I'm insane, right? Because only nutcases see things like this, right?_

The cub stood up. No, Simba stood up. But he couldn't be Simba…Simba was bigger than her. Simba had a mane. Simba was strong and muscular and heavy…

Wait, she had picked him up just a second ago. With nothing but her teeth. She had picked Simba up for a second, and he wasn't heavy at all. He was light. Light as a feather.

Light as a cub.

_Crap. I'm not insane._

"Nala, what the hell is wrong with you?" the cub—no, Simba—asked, still annoyed. "Why are you acting like this? What happened to you? When…"

Suddenly, he trailed off, as if something had just occurred to him. "…did you get so tall?" he finished in a bewildered mumble as he gaped up at the bottom of Nala's chin, which hung several inches above his head even when he was standing up.

Nala shook her head slowly and dropped her paw down from her mouth. She couldn't decide whether to let it fall all the way down to the ground or snap it back up over her muzzle, so she ended up letting it hover in front of her. "Simba…" she stuttered. "I-I don't really know how to tell you this, but…"

Simba's brow furrowed, then shot up back up again. He glanced to either side of his face, then down at his chest, and finally back behind him. His eyes went wide.

"Oh, gods…" he whispered, frantically rubbing the back of his neck with his paw. "It did fall out…"

Nala cringed. "Not exactly…"

Simba looked up at Nala, and for a few seconds both lioness and cub stared at each other with equally wide eyes. Then, Simba practically flew off Pride Rock, taking off in the direction of the watering hole in a full sprint. Nala had a hunch as to why he was going there: it was the only place nearby where you could see your reflection.

She considered going after him, but quickly realized that she had no chance of catching him before he reached the water. Not to mention, she was still more than a little freaked out herself. At some point during the night, the world had apparently decided to stop making sense, and now her husband was a nine-month-old cub. Aiheu only knew what was going to happen next. What if everyone else in the pride was a cub too? What if _she_ turned into a cub?

Paralyzed by that horrible thought, Nala didn't even notice the brightly-hued monkey approaching Pride Rock just as quickly as Simba was leaving it until he skidded to a halt a few feet away from her.

"Nala!" he shouted. "Oh, thank de gods…"

"Rafiki?" Nala replied. Now Rafiki was here. Rafiki never came to Pride Rock unless someone was sick or dead.

Or pregnant.

_Oh, please let someone be knocked up. Please let it just be that…_

In two bounds, Rafiki was right beside her, poking and prodding her and muttering to himself. "Ow! Hey, what are you…" she began to protest before Rafiki grabbed her by the jaw and forcefully turned her head to the side.

"Do you feel nauseous? Any headaches, back pain, loss of muscle tone? How's your memory?" he asked without ever giving her a chance to answer.

"_What is going on, Rafiki?_" Nala screamed. Half of her wanted to beat the living daylights out of him, and the other half wanted to cry. All she wanted was a peaceful, relaxing, _normal _morning. Was that so much to ask for? "First I can't remember who the cub next to me is, and then he starts hitting on me, and then I find out he's my freaking _husband_…and now you're acting like I've got the plague!" she continued. "What is going…"

"What did you say?" Rafiki interrupted, alarm creeping into his voice. "What happened to Simba?"

"Oh, Simba. Funny you should mention Simba. You see, I went to bed last night with a nice, handsome, loving lion next to me, and when I wake up this morning, he's a foot and half tall. I don't know what it means. I don't know what any of this means. All I know is that I'm confused, I'm scared, and I would really love for someone to explain exactly how it would be possible for an adult lion to turn into a small child overnight!"

"Hey!" Rafiki shouted, grabbing the back of her neck and stroking it in what was supposed to be a pacifying gesture. So far, it wasn't working. "Where is Simba?" he asked loudly and slowly.

Nala forced another gulp of air into her lungs. "He's at the watering hole. I think he wanted to see if he was really a…"

At that exact moment, an ear-piercing scream ripped through the picturesque image around her. If it had been a normal day, Nala's first guess would've been that a young lioness had just found a giant hairy tarantula crawling up her leg, but today she knew that there was only one mouth it could've come from. Both she and Rafiki turned around towards the noise. It was coming from the watering hole.

With a heavy sigh, Rafiki turned back around and eyed Nala, a look of silent resignation crumpling his face into a scowl. "Go get Simba," he muttered. "We need to talk."

* * *

...it was rushed, wasn't it? It felt rushed...

Do I say that about everything I write, or am I imagining that? Meh, whatever. I'll be shutting up now.

As always, reviews are appreciated. If my current balance of lessening workload/dedication to writing continues at its current rate, I should have the first portion of the Pridelanders three-shot done soon.

("Soon"...what a delightfully nondescript word. I could publish that next update next year and call it "soon", couldn't I? But I wouldn't do that to you guys. Probably.)


	3. Chapter 3: Story Time

Whoa, I said I'd publish soon, and then I actually published soon...freaky. o.0

No mention of the "s" word in this one. But lots of swearing and awkwardness. I'm sure that more than makes up for it. Enjoy, kids.

* * *

**Chapter Three: Story Time**

"_How is this possible?_"

Rafiki pinched the bridge of his nose between his finger and thumb and tried very hard not to scream. This had to be the twentieth time she'd asked that question. And once again, he had to give her the same answer.

"I don't know, Nala," he grunted in a deadpan, cursing the very existence of that damned miracle berry drink under his breath. All this from one night of innocent, harmless fun…and as if the ensuing hangover hadn't been punishment enough.

Predictably, the angrily pacing beige lioness wasn't very comforted by his redundant non-answer. "Okay, see, here's the part I don't understand," she said suddenly, turning to face the frazzled baboon. "You made this…whatever that stuff was, right?"

Rafiki grit his teeth. "Yes."

"So you should therefore know how you made it, right?"

"No."

The queen's jaw worked up and down for a moment, and she flexed her paws like she was ready to start throwing scratches. "Okay. Explain that to me."

"I was drunk," the monkey snapped. "I woke up, and dere it was. Gods only know what's in it."

"Are you serious?"

"No, of course not. Dis is all a game to me. Can't you see de bright, vibrant smile on my face?"

"You're not helping, Rafiki!"

"Well, if you 'adn't been snooping around in my tree, this never would've 'appened!"

Nala's paws stretched again, extracting a glistening set of claws from the tips of her toes. Her growl would have been enough to send the spindly baboon running for his life if another smaller but no less powerful voice hadn't spoken up as well.

"Oh, give it a rest, you guys!" Simba shouted from his spot between the two incensed creatures. Both of them obeyed, though Nala a little more reluctantly than the shaman, who looked slightly surprised to hear the now somewhat squeaky voice of the king. He'd spent most of the morning sitting in the corner while his friends argued, staring at his paws and dashing outside at regular intervals to dry heave into the nearest patch of grass. Now, however, he just looked tired. And annoyed.

Simba sucked in a deep breath and turned a still shaky eye towards Rafiki. "You said…you said that potion did this to me, right?"

"I t'ink so," Rafiki sighed, glad to finally hear a question he could answer in the affirmative. "At least, your symptoms seem to match."

"Would've been nice of you to have told us that beforehand," Nala muttered. "Warning: side effects may include headache, nausea, lower back pain, and shrinking into a prepubescent rug rat."

"Nala, can you please just…" Simba couldn't even finish his sentence. His stomach was floating off into the stratosphere again, and he didn't have a clue where his head was going. Nala huffed out another sigh and sat down hard, slouching over and refusing to look at either of her companions.

After all his various internal organs had come to rest, Simba continued. "So what's gonna happen to me?" he asked in a small voice. "Am I gonna start forgetting things? Like, will I not remember anything that happened after whatever age I am now?"

Once again, Rafiki shrugged. "If you 'aven't forgotten anyt'ing yet, you probably won't start now," he replied. "It wouldn't make sense for de process to split itself up like that."

"And so would that go for how my mind works too?"

"You mean, will you go back to being a cocky, imperceptive motormouth?"

"I wouldn't have used those exact words, but yeah, more or less that."

"No, you probably won't do that either."

"And…how long am I gonna stay like this?"

The baboon shook his head. "I don't know. None of de plants I tested it on showed any rapid regeneration of size or maturity. Dey all grew back at a normal rate."

Simba's insides shrank together again. "So I'm gonna…I'm gonna have to just grow up again? Is that what you're telling me?"

A solemn nod from Rafiki gave him his answer. Simba's eyes dropped to the ground again and began to burn even hotter than his face, and his stomach rolled and pitched like he had just stepped off the edge of Pride Rock. Even Nala looked a bit pale now.

Eager to dissolve the somber mood of his feline friends—and more importantly, to keep those friends from ripping him to shreds once they recovered on their own—Rafiki kept talking. "But maybe, if I can find a bit of de liquid left, I can create…an antidote?"

Immediately, the shaman had the royal family's full attention. "You can?" Simba and Nala both shouted at the same time as they leapt to their feet.

"Maybe!" he replied quickly, his eyes widening as he realized what he'd just said. "Maybe...it's possible. I'd need some time."

"Okay, great," Simba said anxiously. "How much time?"

Oh, good. Now they wanted specifics again. What part of "I was drunk, you were stupid, and I don't know what the hell this stuff is" wasn't clear before? "Er…" Rafiki mumbled, trying to buy time. A few more incomprehensible murmurs slipped out of the side of his mouth, and finally he sighed dejectedly. "…three days?" he finished with a cringe.

"Three days," Simba repeated. He stared at Rafiki, then at the ceiling, and then he laughed. "Three da…no. Three days isn't gonna work. Because I have a kingdom to rule, a pride to feed, and a border agreement to finish, and I cannot do any of that _looking like this!_"

Even as a cub, the king's wrath was a frightening spectacle. Rafiki reflected on this as he clambered down from the ledge he didn't quite remember ascending to.

"And dat's wit'out eating," he added, because apparently his brain had decided he hadn't dug his own grave quite deep enough yet. "Or sleeping."

Simba's cheeks bulged with what were surely a hundred different curses, but in the end the only thing Rafiki heard was a heavy, frustrated sigh. He stalked away with his head low and flopped onto his back, burying his face in his paws and muttering to himself. And despite the circumstances, Rafiki couldn't help but grin. Simba had done the exact same thing when he really was younger, and his pout didn't look any more mature now.

Nala hadn't spoken for a while, but that wouldn't last for long. If she was at a loss for words now, she would hunt some down and throw them out sooner or later; the only question was when. Usually, it was sooner.

Simba sucked in a deep breath through his paws, as if the downy fur lining his toes could filter out the reality from his current situation. "Okay," he muttered after uncovering his mouth enough to speak. "Okay, we can make this work. We can figure out something out, right? We're all in this together. Okay?"

"Yeah, sweetie," Nala said, rubbing her forehead.

"Rafiki?" he continued.

"Uh…well, I suppose we could call it dat…"

"Rafiki…"

"Well, you can't expect me to be here all de time…"

"Rafiki, do you know what taxidermy is? I hear it's all the rage in some prides."

The shaman blanched. "Yes, we are most definitely all in dis together," he agreed without hesitating.

"Good man," Simba said as he rolled back onto his feet. "Okay, so…who do we deal with first?"

"What d'you mean by that?" Nala asked.

"Well, I mean, we gotta tell somebody else, right? I'm gonna need a few bodies to help run things, and we can't keep a secret this big without someone else knowing."

"Hey, what 'appened to 'we're all in dis together?'"

"Oh, come on, Rafiki," Nala butted in before Simba had a chance to reply. "That wasn't what he meant."

"Yes, it was…" Simba mumbled. No one heard him.

"Den what _did_ he mean?"

"He meant you'd help us and not be so difficult!"

"I'm being difficult?"

"Yes, right now you are."

"I am not."

"Yes, you…you're doing it right now!"

"I am not!"

"Are too!"

The conversation deteriorated quickly. As Nala and Rafiki's squabbling increased in volume, so did the throbbing, twinging spark simmering behind Simba's right eye.

"Guys…" he groaned to no avail. Now it seemed like there were three voices, or maybe that was just the echo reverberating off the den walls. The spark split in two, its twin half burning through his left eye now.

No, there were three voices. A new one was coming from the entrance of the den, from a large, powerfully built lioness whose dark beige fur seemed to glow in the brilliant sunlight streaming in from outside.

"Hey, is Simba in here?" Sarabi started to say before she noticed the spectacle before her. Nala and Rafiki were practically nose-to-nose, each of them red in the face and nearly hoarse from screaming at each other. A pudgy yellow cub sat between them, his teeth clenched and his forepaw clamped firmly against the side of his head. A bizarre feeling of déjà vu swept over her, and just as she determined its source, a deafening yell shattered the air and blew through the voices of the enraged occupants of the den like a thunderstorm through a hornet's nest.

"Both of you, _shut up_!" the cub screamed, his face crumpled and his claws digging into his skull. "Gods above, if anyone's gonna be screeching like a banshee, can it at least be me?"

A burst of familiarity stabbed through Sarabi's heart, and her brow rose without her noticing. "Simba?"

"Yeah, Mom, I'm here," Simba replied. "Just gimme a second to figure out who I'm gonna talk to first, and then I'll…"

The silence seemed to fill Simba's chest almost as thoroughly as it did the den. "…and I guess that answer that," he finished a moment later with an air of resignation. "Hi, Mom."

For almost a minute, the only things that moved were Sarabi's eyelids, their slow and deliberate motions showing her utter bewilderment at the scene before her. She took a deep breath, and for a moment Simba was sure she was going to scream. But then the air in her chest released itself with a short and gentle puff, as is to say, "Well, all right, then." And in fact, that was exactly what Sarabi said next.

"Well, all right, then," she stated with complete tranquility. "Would anyone care to tell me how this happened?"

"Rafiki?" said Nala.

"Simba?" said Rafiki.

"Well, hell if I know," Simba grumbled after sending a withering glare in each of his companions' directions. "I'm just the victim here."

"So you're really…you're really, um…" Sarabi began again.

"Pint-sized? Yeah, I am. We disproved the whole dream theory earlier."

"Do I want to hear that story?"

"I don't want to think about that story. You're taking this awfully well."

"Well, when your only son disappears for three years, shows up just in time to save you from death, and then tells you he's best friends with a rodent he could eat in one bite, you tend not to be surprised by much."

"Right." Another moment of silence passed. "You want to go hyperventilate for a little bit?"

"Do you mind?"

"Not at all."

Sarabi nodded her thanks and calmly walked out of the den and around the corner, out of sight. To his relief, Simba found out that the noises that began wafting around that corner a few seconds later were fairly easy to block out.

"Okay, so Mom's taking it well," Simba said over the distant retching. "Who else should we tell?"

"My mom would probably recognize you like that," Nala suggested.

"Okay, yeah, that makes sense," he agreed with a nod. "You know where she is right now?"

Nala didn't answer. "Nala?" he asked again. "Do you know where your mom is?"

"Mm-hmm," she replied with a strange, tight-lipped expression.

"Okay, where is she?"

Once again, Nala was silent. He could almost see the outline of her teeth pressed against her jowls.

"She's right behind me, isn't she?"

"Mm-hmm."

Simba turned around slowly. Sarafina was staring at him with much the same look his own mother had given him a moment before.

"Is that your mother out there?" she asked, motioning towards the echoing gasps hidden beyond Simba's vision.

"Yes, it is."

"Are all those things she's saying true?"

"Yes, they are."

"Will she mind if I join her?"

"Go right ahead."

Sarafina moved much quicker than Sarabi, Simba noticed. "Your turn, Rafiki," Simba said with a smile that bordered on demented. "Who's next?"

Rafiki didn't even have a chance to answer. "Hey, Simba, your ma's puking up a storm out here," Timon shouted from his perch atop the bristly neck of his lifelong pal and partner in crime, Pumbaa. "Must be some kinda bug going around…ha! Geddit! A _bug_! 'Cause she's…_Simba?_"

"Gods, this is ridiculous!" Simba moaned from behind his paws, slumping to the ground as Timon's eyes grew.

"Aw, look, he's tiny again!" Pumbaa said gleefully. "Boy, this'll be fun! Just like old times! We can go grub hunting and snail slurping…ooh, and bowling for buzz…"

"Pumbaa, you're missing the point!" Timon yelled back. "He's not _supposed_ to be tiny again! It's the first rule of life!"

"I thought that was to treat others as you would like to be tre…"

"Okay, guys, can we focus? Please?" Simba asked in a pleading, almost desperate voice.

"Gah! Back! Back, you…imposter! Don't come any closer!" Timon squealed as he stumbled off Pumbaa's back. He kept scooting backwards as soon as he hit the ground, holding out his hands and forming a cross with his forefingers. "I'm warning ya!"

"Timon, for gods' sake, just calm down…"

"Back, I say!"

An anguished growl cut through the air, and an instant later Timon was flat on his back, his arms pinned under Simba's surprisingly strong paws. "Will you just listen for one second!" he hissed. "I don't know what happened to me, what caused it, or how I'm supposed to fix it, but I do know that you've already told me you'd stick by me no matter what. I've lived with you, I've slept beside you, and I've fought beside you, and right now all I need from me is just…just trust me. Please."

Simba blinked hard, and his stomach dropped. Oh, gods, he wasn't going to break down now. Not after he'd kept his cool all morning…

But it was like trying to stop a river after the dam had broken. Simba leapt off of Timon and backed away quickly, but not before the terrified meerkat felt a drop of warm, salty moisture splash across his front and sink into his fur. Soon enough, the den floor was receiving the same treatment.

"Hey…" Timon said as he pulled himself up and put a tentative hand on his friend's shoulder. "Aw, jeez, I didn't mean any of that, I just…y'know, it's kind of a shock to the system, is all."

"Join the club," Simba replied in a throaty voice, but a tiny pinprick of a grin appeared as Timon's arm draped further around him.

"Hey, c'mon," the meerkat continued in a more upbeat tone. "You grow up once, you done it a thousand times, huh? It's no big deal. And whatever happens, we're pals, right? We've gone through worse."

"We have?" Simba and Pumbaa shot back in unison.

"Well, yeah, there was, uh…well, I guess you could count the…" The meerkat's brow bent into a V shape. "Didn't I ever tell you not to nitpick?"

Finally, a full smile was dredged up from the depths of Simba's misery. "Well, at least you two are acting normal enough," he commented a bit dryly. "Thanks, guys."

"Any time, buddy," Pumbaa replied enthusiastically, trotting forward to nose the golden cub back onto his feet. "We're all ready to help. Right, everyone?"

Nala answered first again. "Right," she said, giving her best attempt at a comforting smile while still rubbing her forehead with increasing vigor.

"Right," Rafiki added soon after, doing an excellent job of keeping the fear out of his voice, he thought.

"Right," Sarabi coughed as she reentered the den with Sarafina in tow, her face noticeably bleached beneath her fur.

"Okay, then," Simba concluded, turning his attention back to his significantly wobbly mother. "You all right, Mom?"

"Oh, yeah, I'm…I'm fine, honey. Just perfect. Were you going to ask me something?"

"Actually, I thought _you_ were gonna tell me something…I mean, before you went out and started-"

"Yeah, let's never mention that again, okay, sweetheart?"

"Deal. So what was it?"

For a moment, Sarabi looked as though she couldn't quite remember herself. "What was i…oh, yeah! Gods, it was about, um…"

Her hesitation hardly even surprised Simba. Nothing would surprise him at this point. "What is it now?" he asked with an air of resignation.

"I…don't think you really want to know…"

"Mom, I woke up this morning as a nine-month-old cub. I have been the size of an ambitious ragweed for two hours now, and I have just spent the last thirty minutes reintroducing myself to most of my immediate family. Nothing you say could possibly shock me any more at this point. Now, what is it?"

Sarabi sucked in a deep breath through her teeth, and grimaced. "The Mountain Pride's here," she said. "They've been waiting for about an hour now."

In practice, the concept of deafening silence seems absurd, but at that moment no one in the den would have argued that the utter soundlessness of the packed room could be described as anything else. Ten seconds stretched into twenty, and the air remained tight as a coiled string, as if somewhere beneath the floor a massive wire was just a hair's breadth away from renting the earth in half and sucking all of Pride Rock into the newly created abyss. And yet, at the same time, no one wanted to be the one to revive the conversation either. The trio of lionesses were all paralyzed by the thought of what this could mean for the kingdom, Timon and Pumbaa were paralyzed by the thought of what this could mean for their friend, and Rafiki was too busy planning his funeral to even remember that a conversation had been in progress.

Distracted as they were by their own private worries, the group almost didn't notice when the subject of those worries began to speak. "So, they're here now?" Simba asked without a trace of emotion. "Like, right now?"

Sarabi found her tongue first. "Well, no, not at Pride Rock yet…they were waiting by the watering hole last time I saw…"

"Good, that gives us time. Nala, I'm gonna need your help."

"Uh…okay," Nala answered after a brief surprised pause.

"Great. You see that giant precipice out there?"

"What, the promontory?"

"Yeah, that. Now what I want you to do is I want you to pick me up, I want you to take me out there, and I want you to throw me off. Can you do that?"

"Simba…"

"No, really, it'll be easy. Here, I'll even walk out with you."

And he would have, except it was at that moment that Simba's luck finally took one last turn for the worse. Because it was at that moment that Simba heard them approaching, heard a crisp, powerful voice swish through the air and rebound off the wall of stone behind him: "Hello? Anybody up here?"

"Oh, _shit_," he whispered, just before a heavyset lion with a stocky, angular muzzle and a sandy brown pelt and mane came into view just beyond Pride Rock. Accompanied by another slightly smaller lion with similarly colored fur, he was making his way somewhat hesitantly towards the platform where Simba occasionally addressed his pride, and where he had been planning on meeting this very lion. Of course, that had all been before the unfortunate issue of his turning into a prepubescent cub the day before the meeting. And somehow, Simba doubted that said meeting would go very well in light of that particular issue.

"He's coming!" he hissed as he scrambled back into the shadows of the den.

"Who's coming?" Pumbaa asked.

"The Mountain Pride! They're walking in right now!"

Nala's brow crinkled. "Wait, _they_? What d'you mean, th…"

"Oh, there you are," the brown-maned lion interrupted as he poked his head around the corner. Acting almost on instinct, Simba dove out of sight behind Nala's back, leaving her to deal with the Pridelanders' new guests.

"Is that how you treat all your visitors?" he continued as Simba cowered under Nala's tail. "Bake 'em by the water until they're ready to burst into flame?"

"Oh, um…I'm sorry about that, I…" Nala managed to stutter, her heart pounding and the rocks in her skull pounding down even harder than before.

The lion grinned, and shook his head. "Ah, I'm just kidding," he laughed. "I've been through worse."

Nala laughed too, and put on a big smile just for the hell of it. "Help me," she murmured out of the corner of her mouth.

"Doing great," came Simba's muffled reply.

"I don't believe any of us have met before," the lion said a moment later, his hazel eyes still sparkling with good cheer. "Let's see…are you Simba's mother? Yeah, you have his eyes. And you are…"

"Sarafina."

"Pleasure to meet you, Sara. And I suppose you two must be Timon and Pumbaa…I heard Simba had a couple little friends hanging around with him."

"That's us," Pumbaa answered while Timon eyed the massive lion somewhat indignantly. "Little friends…" he muttered before turning away with a harrumph, his arms crossed in defiance.

Finally, the lion turned back to Nala. "And you're Nala, right?" he asked, continuing once he saw her nod curtly. "Yeah, I figured. Simba talked about you a little bit…said you were the prettiest lioness he'd ever seen." The lion's eyes swept from Nala's brow all the way to her paws. "And quite frankly, I can't say I disagree with him," he commented with a somewhat sultry smirk.

Nala nodded again, and somehow managed to keep her smile free of malice. _Oh, gods above, if you start hitting on me, there won't be enough of you left to bury, bud._

"As for us, my name's Nafasi, and this is my son Changa. He's gonna take my place one of these days, so I figured I'd bring him along and show him the ropes a bit." Nafasi motioned to the smaller lion beside him, whose shaggy, nut-brown mane only covered the back of his neck and a small triangle on his chest. He looked about two years younger than Simba and was a good deal smaller and lankier than his father. He also looked like he was staring at Nala with his baby-blue looking as though he was in somewhat of a trance.

"Changa," the larger lion muttered before giving his offspring a hearty shove in the side. "Oh, yeah, um…hi, everyone," he said quickly, his eyes returning to Nala the instant his father turned away. Now it was everything Nala could do to keep her smile from scrunching into a grimace. Why did everyone have to start ogling her _today_?

"You'll have to forgive him. He's a little brain-dead every now and then," Nafasi said with a shrug. "Teenagers…what're you gonna with 'em, right?"

Nala widened her grin a bit. The knot in her stomach was beginning to unwind a little bit. He might be a little blunt and his son might be a bit socially inept, but Nafasi seemed like a nice enough guy; maybe this wouldn't be so bad after all.

"So, getting back to the point, is Simba around?" Nafasi asked not even a second later. "He's usually pretty punctual, isn't it?"

Now the knot was in her throat. Every eye in the den was on her, and she knew Simba's were too. "Oh, um, he's right…" she said without thinking. She started thinking pretty soon after that, though, right around when she felt a set of miniscule but painfully sharp claws dig into her backside. She bit down hard on her tongue, but not before a tiny yelp slipped out from the back of her throat. She disarmed Nafasi's questioning look with another grin, and tried to resist the urge to scream.

"He's…" she began without any clue as to where she'd finish. But just in time, she heard an almost silent cough waft back from somewhere behind her. And whether he'd meant to do it or he had just strained a little too hard in scraping half the fur off her back, Simba had just given Nala an idea.

"He's sick," she said, a hint of pride at her quick thinking sneaking into her voice. "He came down with something terrible last night. Could hardly even talk this morning."

Nafasi fell for the lie quickly. "Oh, geez," he said. "Is it bad?"

"Oh, yeah. Horrible. He's puking all over the place." This time, she only got a swat for her troubles. _Oh, shut up back there,_ she grumbled to herself. _I'm doing the best I can._

"Okay…" Nafasi said with a quickly veiled air of disgust. "Well, that's a shame. You think he'd want to know I'm here?"

"Oh, I think he already knows." When met with yet another quizzical stare, she clenched her toes and ignored the groan near her hind legs. "I mean, he had a pretty good view from the cave where he's sleeping," she added, thinking back to the spacious cavern on the north side of Pride Rock where Rafiki usually cared for any wounded members of the pride. "He probably saw you coming from miles away."

"Really? Maybe I should go see him. We could probably just talk in there…"

"Uh, no, I don't think that would work," Nala replied quickly, and this time the nervousness in her voice was far too apparent. "Because, um…" But her mind was blank. For the first time in her life, Nala wished with all her heart that she had never been born.

But by some miracle, Rafiki finally found his voice again and jumped in right as Nafasi was about to interrupt a desperate Nala. "'E's very contagious," he sounded, sounding for all the world like the most excellent medical mind in the land and not like he had just been thinking that blue flowers would look very nice over his grave. "It's a bad case…one of de worst I've ever seen. You don't want to be anyone near him, believe me."

Nala nodded along with Rafiki, silently praising the day he was born the whole time. "Yeah, he probably won't be out of the sick cave for days," she added, taking in Rafiki's confirmation of her statement at the very edge of her vision. "Shame, isn't it?"

"I'll say," Nafasi replied with a sigh. He was buying every word of this. "It took us the better part of two days to get here, and now we can't even talk to him."

"I'm really sorry to hear that," Nala said, feeling a tiny bead of hope begin to condense in her chest. Maybe they would just leave now and figure out another time to meet with Simba. Then, if Rafiki hadn't come up with a cure, at least they would have some more time to plan ahead for their arrival.

But, as with the rest of that morning, hope was something that was shattered early and often. "Well, I guess it'd be a bit pointless to walk all the way home just to come back in a week," Nafasi said with a shrug. "You guys mind if we stick around until he gets better?"

Nala's jaw fell open, as did those of many of the other current inhabitants of the den. They wanted to stay? They couldn't possibly keep the truth from them for so long if they were looking over their shoulders every waking minute!

_Okay, wait a minute_, Nala said to herself. _We've done okay hiding this so far…them staying here wouldn't be the end of the world. All we have to do is keep them far away from Pride Rock as much as we can, and they probably won't even notice a thing. We can do this._

_Yeah. This is all gonna work out fine._

"Of course you can," Nala said with natural goodwill, flashing a "let me handle this" look to her increasingly panicked-looking compatriots. "There are plenty of nice caves on the south side of Pride Rock…I'm sure we can set you up with something. I'll have someone show you around the Pridelands tomorrow."

She could see the reluctance in his eyes. Neither he nor his son had any interest in a grand tour of the Pridelands, and Nala knew it. But since he was their guest, he'd be obligated to at least humor her and her particular brand of hospitality, which for now could include keeping him out in the grasslands for as long as was diplomatically possible. Sometimes, it paid to be a monarch.

"Sounds good to me," he finally said after a brief pause and another nudge into his son's shoulder, who was much less proficient at hiding his lack of enthusiasm for the next day's activity than his father was. "Should we go look around over there now?"

"Yeah, that'd be great," Nala answered, intuitively knowing that her noiseless sigh of relief was being matched by the cub crouched behind her. "Mom, can you take them down?"

Sarafina agreed without hesitation, almost as eager to get out of the den herself as Nala was to get the envoy from the Mountain Pride to follow suit. She motioned for them to come with her, and Nafasi and Changa turned to leave. And for almost a full second, Nala felt as though a giant lead ball had finally fallen out from her innards and rolled off into the darkness.

But Nafasi was just a bit too slow, and Simba was just a bit too quick, and Nala let her guard down just a bit too much. And before anyone could even think to say, "Don't come out yet, you twit!", the foreign king was eye-to-eye with a small, yellow-furred cub that he'd never seen before in his life. Or at least, that's what he thought.

"Who's this little guy?" he asked, his eyes thankfully trained on Simba and not on the distinct green tinge creeping up from Nala's jowls. "Was he in here this whole time?"

While Nala tried to jumpstart her brain long enough to think of one last excuse, Simba's mind was running on full power. The way he saw it, there were only two options: play the part of innocent and unaware cub, or go ahead and tell him the truth. The first one seemed like the obvious choice, but in the past few months he'd spent entire days doing nothing but talk with Nafasi about everything from hunting to lionesses to which lionesses could hunt and what hunts had the best lionesses. And despite his laidback demeanor, Nafasi was a lot sharper than he acted, and when it came to politics he might as well have been sired by a piranha. He didn't joke around when they negotiated, and he didn't appreciate it when Simba tried. So he couldn't possibly try to tell him that he, a stumpy little cub about as big as his front paws, was the king of Pride Rock; he'd never believe it, and at worst he'd consider it an insult. Simba had heard of wars started over less than that. And on the other hand, there was a very real possibility that he'd say something that Nafasi would recognize from their previous conversations, and judging by his down-to-earth attitude, his first thought definitely wouldn't be that he was actually talking to Simba at that very moment. More likely, he'd pick up on the subtle similarities between the adult lion he knew and Simba's current form, and he'd go back to his pride telling everyone about the cute little cub Simba and Nala had pinched out in total secret. And that kind of rumor was definitely not something that Simba wanted to have to try and dispel later on, once this was all over.

All of this sped through Simba's mind like droplets of water through a raging river, and just a few seconds after he found himself staring into Nafasi's huge, curiosity-filled eyes, he made his decision. Maybe acting like a cub was risky, but it was much more likely to get them all out of the den scot-free than the alternative. So that was what Simba was planning to do when he opened his mouth to speak.

Which was why he found it that much more startling when Nala got to them first.

"Oh, we found him out in the grasslands a few weeks ago," she said. "He's mute."

Simba had never actually heard of someone causing another creature to burst into flame with a particularly well-placed glare, but he was sure as hell doing his damnedest to be the first. Nala was unfazed, though, and his ire only increased when she threw a precautionary paw over his muzzle and slid him into her flank, squeezing him in the head for all she was worth.

"Is he now?" Nafasi said, sharing a thoroughly baffled glance with Changa before looking back at Simba with a good deal more interest than before.

"Oh, yeah, doesn't say a word. We're not even he knows who we are," Nala continued with a nervous laugh. "But we love him anyway!" Simba's eyes were beginning to bulge out of their sockets at this point for various reasons, not all of them having to do with the immense pressure of Nala's paw on his breastbone.

"Uh-huh…so you've had him how long again?"

"Just a…few weeks. He's really quite friendly once you get to know him."

"Is that why he looks like he wants to kill us all?"

"Oh, um…well, he doesn't really like strangers. You should've seen him when we found him. Ha ha!"

_Oh gods, Simba's never going to forgive me for this._

"Oh, wow…um…" Nafasi muttered. He glanced down at Simba again and raised his voice ever so slightly. "Sorry about that, little guy. I'll…try not to be so scary next time."

_Nala, I am never, ever going to forgive you for this._

The longest awkward pause of the day overtook the den after Nafasi's remark, and in the end it was he who decided to bring it to a close. "Well, we're gonna go ahead and head out to that cave you were talking about," he said. "I think I need to lie down for a little while…you guys run a pretty strange pride over here."

Nala shrugged and tried to smile, but the muscles in her jaw had finally checked out for the day. With Nala's half-grimace, half-deranged grin encouraging their departure, Nafasi and Changa were only too happy to escape.

Once a full minute had passed since Changa's spindly tail had vanished out of sight, the feeling in Nala's legs ran off with whatever had been suppressing her headache for the last minutes, and she lowered herself fairly ungracefully to the ground. She wasn't sure whether she wanted to cry or just sleep for a couple months, but once she looked over at Simba and saw the look on his face, she knew exactly which one was forthcoming.

"I'm sorry about all that, Simba," she mumbled though the throbbing ache pounding out of the space between her ears. "I…I don't know, I just panicked, and you weren't talking so I thought I was supposed to say something and…"

She trailed off as Simba's eyes seemed to glow with frustration. "Oh, wait, am I allowed to talk now?" he almost growled after a lengthy silence that Nala had a feeling had been allowed to go on much longer than necessary. "Or am I still the Wild Child?"

"Look, I'm sorry, okay?" she shouted back. "What the hell was I supposed to tell them? 'Oh, him? Oh, that's just Simba. He's feeling a little child-like today. I'm sure you won't mind!'"

"No, I…I don't know either, Nala," he replied, and finally he looked just like Nala felt: broken. "I shouldn't be mad at you. It's not your fault, none of this is…I mean, you told me not to go up in the tree, and now look where we are. This whole thing's blown up into such a giant mess, and I don't have a damn clue what we're gonna do now." He sighed and stared at the ground between his paws, a plaintive, almost pitiful look seeping from his eyes. "I'm sorry, Nal," he mumbled. "You didn't do anything wrong."

Nala was more than a little hesitant to direct any sympathy toward her husband after his previous outburst, but soon enough her heart melted again as his morose frown swept her bitterness out of the picture. Well, he had apologized, hadn't he? And she might as well say it: they were all pretty cranky by now. This wasn't a time to hold a grudge; this was a time to step up and be the steady mast around which everyone else could pull themselves up. Of course, that didn't mean she was looking forward to that role, but she was willing to take it if she had to. She was queen, after all.

"Oh, I forgive you, you sappy little bastard," she chuckled. Well, if she was going to be the mast, she could at least have a bit of fun with it, right? "Don't worry about it."

Simba gave her a slightly incredulous look. "I'm a sappy little bastard?"

"Nah, not really. Got your attention, though, didn't it?"

"You could say that. I thought apologies were good."

"They are. Not a lot of lions would do that. Sappy is endearing."

"I'm sure it is. So just to clarify, I don't have to be deaf and dumb all the time, do I? Just around Nafasi, right?"

"Sure. Unless you're bad."

"You would do that?"

"I reserve the right to."

"Oh, come on!"

"Hey, respect your elders!"

"Respect my…oh, you are _not_ gonna pull that one out on me."

"About time you started to. I really appreciated you using my back as a scratching post, by the way."

"Oh, damn. Should I apologize for that too?"

"Nah. I'll get my revenge someday."

"Someday being today?"

"That's an optimistic figure."

"Oh, this week is gonna _suck_."

"Yeah. And I'm gonna enjoy every minute of it."

It felt good to bicker like this, like today was just an everyday day where they could goof off and ignore their higher callings in favor of various other activities that might or might not be mentioned in the company of their mothers later. And deep down, Nala knew as well as Simba that this feeling could only last so long before reality came knocking and they'd be forced to sink deeper and deeper into the web of lies they were spinning around the whole pride. But just for now, just for this moment, they were free, and to the pair of inversely sized lions walking out of the den and into the sunlight, that was worth more than a hundred days of normality.

But reality certainly was still lying in wait in a quiet, shadowy place that was much closer than they thought, and neither the tall, well-built lioness nor her much shorter companion, nor the third member of their party unseen by both, had any idea of its magnitude. One thing was certain, though: with Nafasi and Changa and all the other various trials and tribulations they hadn't even begun to imagine yet steaming headlong towards Pride Rock, it was going to be one hell of a week.

* * *

I gotta say, it felt weird writing for Timon and Pumbaa...I think I did all right with them, though considering that this is the first time I've actually written a story with them in it in the thirteen months since I joined this site. Well, it had to happen eventually. As always, reviews are appreciated.

Oh, and by the way, for any of you that are following my other story, "The Pridelanders", the new story I just posted, "The Shadow", is a tie-in to that which I would highly suggest you read. And not just because I wrote it. That would be silly. I haven't gotten as many reviews on it yet as I normally for a "Pridelanders" update, so I'm wondering whether you all just didn't know it was there. Well, it's there. Please go flip through it and tell me what you think. Thank you.


	4. Chapter 4: Sick Leave

Looks at that. Four weeks between updates. Pretty slick.

These next two chapters were (as is the often the case with me) supposed to be one chapter before it got too long, so I've since split them up. If Chapter Five isn't posted by the time you read this, it will be extremely soon. That's also when I actually start to take a few things seriously with this story, so be prepared for that. This one, however, is still just lighthearted brain spew. So, enjoy.

Also, is anyone else consistently frustrated by the fact that the underline function in the Document Manager simply refuses to work 95% of the time? Because I am. -.-

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* * *

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**Chapter 4: Sick Leave**

"This isn't going to work."

"And that makes how many times you've said that now?"

"Not counting. You haven't answered."

"All right. Yes, Nala, of course it'll work. I have complete faith in your ability to lead this pride in my stead."

"Gods above…"

"That, and we're all screwed if you can't. No pressure, though."

"Much obliged, jackass."

"Okay, bad joke. Sorry."

Nala glanced down at the cubbish pair of auburn eyes beside her. She told herself that she should've just taken such innocent teasing in stride like she usually did, but she had barely slept at all the previous night from worrying about keeping Simba's condition a secret. And that meant he was pretty much flipping cartwheels all over her last nerve. "Can we maybe hold up on all the joking until after we've made it through the first day?" she growled. "Just temporarily, please?"

Simba flashed his trademark grin up at his mate, his smirk a bit tinier than Nala was used to but no less annoying now. "But tomorrow's fair game, right?" he asked, to which his mate responded with a glare potent enough to melt the fat off a bull elephant. "No joking," Simba mumbled a moment after that, his cubbish auburn eyes now focused on a tiny white pebble between his forepaws.

"Good deal," Nala said. "Okay, I'm gonna go talk to Nafasi, and then probably Sikiva. We can count on her not asking questions for at least a couple days."

"Sounds good," Simba said with a slight cringe. When another glare from Nala wasn't forthcoming, he continued. "And I can…"

"_You_ can stay here, keep out of sight, and keep out of trouble."

By a strange coincidence, the imaginary Simba inside Nala's head sputtered out the exact same answer that the real one standing next to her did. "Are you kidding me?" he said indignantly. "All I want to do is keep an eye on things…"

"First rule of hunting, Simba."

"What?"

"What's the first rule of hunting?"

"Keep your eyes open?"

"That's third. What's the first one?"

"Stay downwind of the herd and upwind of Pumbaa?"

"No."

"Don't eat the yellow zebra?"

"The first rule of hunting is that if you can see the prey, the prey can see you," Nala finally revealed through gritted teeth. "So if you can see the rest of the pride, they can see you, and they can start asking questions about you. And that is not something we want right now."

"So where do you want me?"

_Somewhere far, far away from me, _Nala said to herself. "In the sick cave," she said to Simba. "No one'll go in there except Rafiki, if he comes around."

"And if they do?"

"Then I suppose you'll just have to improvise."

"I don't think Timon ever forgave me for the last time I improvised…" Simba muttered.

"Well, practice makes perfect," Nala grumbled back. "I'll come back for you in an hour. Try not to knock anything over while I'm gone."

For a long, blissful moment, Simba didn't reply and Nala's heartbeat moved out of her head and back into her chest. She wasn't quick enough to escape before her respite ended, though.

"Hey, Nal?" Simba called out as she began to turn away. Nala took a moment to compose herself and unclamp her jaw, then faced him again.

"Yeah?" she said, putting on a smile for his sake but finding it too difficult of a charade to keep up once she saw the look on his face. He wasn't quite smirking now; it was an expression that she'd never seen anyone but Simba pull off. His eyes were bashful and he had one side of his mouth pushed up in a cheeky grin, but there was something innocent about it that negated your anger, whisked away every harsh feeling you might have for him. It was his "melt-your-heart" face, and he'd used it on her at least a dozen times since they've stumbled across each other in the jungle six months ago. But now it had a completely different effect: instead of feeling guilty for snapping at him, she was flashing back to when she was a cub, when he had grinned at her like that once and her heart had jumped out of her chest for a reason she couldn't even begin to explain at the time. And yet, there was still the normal reaction—the one she'd always had when he was an adult—mixed in there somewhere as well. It was like she was seeing two different Simbas: the one she was in love with, and the one she had known as a cub.

And what made her feel guilty wasn't the tone she'd taken with Simba just before; it was that, as much as she wanted to deny it, the dominating feeling that filled her heart when she looked at him was one of friendship, of companionship. Not the affection, not the infatuation she had felt for the last six months every time she woke up in the morning and felt his forelegs wrapped around her and his nose resting ever so gently on the back of her neck. She looked at Simba now, and she saw the cub she'd been friends with so many years ago. But she didn't see the lion she married.

"I just…wanted to say thanks for not running off on me," he said. "I know a lot of lionesses wouldn't have stuck around if something like this happened...and I know I haven't really been a lot of fun to be around today. So it means a lot to me that I know you've got my back." Now the other side of his mouth curled up to make a full smile. "And I really am sorry about screwing around a minute ago."

Nala could only manage to bring her eyes up as far as his lips, and who could blame her? Any farther up, and she might catch a glimpse of his eyes and know how deeply he meant what he'd just said, and he might catch a glimpse of her eyes and see the shame, the _hatred_ for herself smoldering behind them. She would never have thought herself so shallow, and yet how could her feelings now be anything but irrefutable? How could she lie to herself and tell herself that she couldn't be blamed for not loving a cub? No. Not when she had promised herself to that cub. Not when that cub was an adult in everything but looks. Not when that cub was her gods-damned mate.

She glanced up just long enough to nod and smile, but that was far too long all the same. Her stomach swooned and dove into her feet as she met his eyes, and if she had managed to get anything down at breakfast that morning, it surely would have made a reappearance now. And he noticed. She knew he noticed something, so she said her goodbyes quickly and trotted another without another sound. To him, anyway. There was a regular old Greek chorus sounding off inside her head, and they were not members of the Golden Rule club.

Simba was probably staring at her. Well, let him stare. She deserved it. Let everyone stare at her and her selfishness, her…well, whatever the hell she had swimming through her head. Why couldn't she just think straight for one freaking…

Nala wasn't so much brought out of her reverie as she was dragged out kicking and screaming, by a narrowly missed head-on collision with something furry and smelling very distinctly of wild onions. Now she'd almost wished she'd given in to her urge to cry. At least now, she would've had an excuse.

"Ow!" the furry thing grunted, more out of surprise than pain. Or maybe he was just the wimpy kind of furry thing. Nala's thoughts were becoming a bit malicious as of late, she reflected. "Sorry about thaooohhhhh…gods," it continued. "It" was a "he", actually, now that she bothered to listen for a bit. And "he" was actually…

_Oh, Aiheu on an antelope. Really?_

"I-I'm really, really sorry, Miss Highness…Y-Your Majesty," Changa stammered, his eyes darting back and forth between her eyes and what was surely a very interesting rock formation behind her if he valued his time on this Earth.

"Morning," she replied, not catching herself quite quickly enough to avoid displaying her exasperation for a moment or two. "Sleep well?"

"Uh, yeah! Great! I slept great! How about y…er, that is, if, uh…"

"Fine," she interrupted, more for her sake than his. Well, she might as well be honest with herself about it. "Is your father awake?"

"Uh, no, he's still, um…out cold, heh heh…"

It was like talking to a mosquito, she thought. One with a maddening case of diplomatic immunity. "Okay," she said in a carefully measured tone of civility. "Well, can you go wake him up and tell him I'd like to speak with him?"

"Uh, he doesn't really like it when I wake him up early…"

"Changa, please go wake your father up."

"I can give him a message later…"

"_Now_."

With a very poorly concealed sigh, Changa turned back around and entered the spacious cave he and his father were sharing for the duration of their stay. A few moments later, he was back again.

"He says he'll be out in a minute," Changa announced.

Nala would've bet her queenship that Changa hadn't spoken to anything but his ego. "Did he now?" she said before she could stop herself. Thankfully, Changa was one of the blessedly few creatures on Earth who wouldn't know sarcasm if it tied a knot in his tail and used it as a lasso.

"Oh, yeah…he's just getting up now, I bet," Changa answered. "So what are you gonna talk to him about? I mean, if you don't mind me ask-"

"About your tour of the kingdom."

"Are you cancelling it?" He wasn't very good at hiding his enthusiasm either.

"About getting it started. Soon."

If Changa's thoughts were any easier to read, Nala could've created a reasonable picture of an elephant just by telling him to not think about one. "Oh…okay," he said dejectedly. Nala's lips tightened and her eyebrows bounced up for a moment, but that was as far as her compassion was going to reach this morning.

After a second or two of staring at the scraggly patch of mane desperately clinging to his chest, Changa looked back up at Nala, who was almost able to mouth his next question along with him for how blatant the turn his mind had taken was. "So are you gonna come along with us?" he asked hopefully.

"Not today, I'm afriad," Nala replied without any hesitation. "I've got a few other things to do around here." _Like beat my head against a rock until I forget why I bothered to wake up today._

"So you're not coming with us?"

"No, Changa. We've established that."

To Changa's credit, it only took him seven seconds to bite back the urge to ask a third time. "So who's coming with us?" he asked instead.

"Good question," Nala replied. Actually, it _was_ a good question; she hadn't really thought about who she hated enough to take out of the hunting party for something like this. "How does this sound: I'll go find someone to show you two around, while you go and see if you can't hurry your father along. Mm-kay?"

And she had lost him. There was no rock fascinating enough in the world to hold his attention like that. "Uh…huh?" he mumbled.

Well, she'd held it in this long. The gods would forgive one lapse in etiquette, she figured. Hoped. "Oh, Chaaangaaaa…" she sang. "Did you hear what I said, honey?"

Nala would later admit to herself that she really shouldn't have derived as much pleasure from the mixture of complete shock and just then unbridled desire that swept across Changa's face as she leaned in close to him and fluttered her eyelashes just quick enough for him to be able to notice it. Given how much the look in his glassy eyes favored the latter quality, though, in the end she decided that it was as justified as she could've hoped for.

"Uh…yeah, yeah, I got it, I…crap," Changa whimpered, his paws twitching like the ground was melting out from underneath him.

Nala grinned, then let out an abnormally high-pitched giggle. "Aww, that's okay, sweetie..." she murmured, the words feeling slimy just leaving her mouth. She was beginning to remember why she and Simba had enjoyed messing with Zazu so much when they were cubs. "Was there something…_distracting_ you?"

She leaned in close to Changa and smiled again, though she immediately regretted it. As Changa began to stammer out an answer, Nala made a mental note to kiss Simba's paws for making a habit of chewing mint leaves to keep his breath fresh. "Nuh-uh…" Changa squeaked.

"You sure?" Nala whispered, cocking her head to one side. Good gods, she was going to give the poor little guy a heart attack if this went on any longer. Thankfully, he nodded his head vigorously and set her up perfectly to end it with a bang.

"Good," she said cheerfully, pulling back away from him with a silent sigh of relief. "Then why don't you turn your adorable little behind around, walk back inside that cave, and tell your father to wake up and come out here before I drag you both out by the tails. How's that sound?"

"Oh…yeah. All right," Changa muttered after a brief stretch of slack-jawed confusion. "Gimme a minute…"

"Oh, and Changa?" Nala added as an afterthought.

"Yeah?" he said, his last vestiges of hope still present in his tone.

"This time, you might want to ask him a bit louder. I don't think he heard you last time."

"…huh?"

"You're not very good at this subtlety thing, are you, Changa?"

"My dad says that a lot."

"Smart fella."

"Thanks."

"Really?"

"Oh, you meant…yeah. Yeah, he's smart, I guess."

"Mm-hmm."

"I'm gonna…go get him now."

"You do that."

This was always the part she hadn't been as amused by with Simba: the moment when their victim realized what was really going on. She felt none of that guilt now. His fault for aggravating her that much, she told herself.

The instant Changa had his back turned for good, Nala took a gander around to see if there was a convenient scapegoat lying around. Either out of luck or extremely fortunate prescience, the rest of the pride seemed to have pulled a disappearing act. Which meant she'd have to hunt one of them down and ask them to sacrifice their day and quite possibly their sanity to do this for her. She almost thought about finding Zazu and getting him to do it, but that wouldn't have solved the problem as much as aggravated a new one. Between Zazu yapping away about the political history of the zebra herd and pontificating on every one of the thirty-seven identical disputes the elephants and the giraffes had gotten into over the watering hole that year—and with Changa being Changa—she'd be lucky if Nafasi was even coherent when he got back, let alone willing to speak to her again. Then again, maybe he was more patient than her. That seemed likely, all things considered.

Well, at least finding Zazu would be easy. Ever time she ever lied down and tried to get some rest, he'd be right by her ear in an instant informing her of some terribly important matter that couldn't possibly be put off for another five minutes. She'd promised herself once to teach him how to procrastinate one day, but she never got around to it. In any case, his most annoying trait would finally be useful here.

After confirming that Changa hadn't reemerged from the cave yet, Nala let her legs drop out from under her and closed her eyes. Within seconds, the sound of fluttering wings filled her ears. It really was uncanny sometimes.

"Good _mor_-ning, Your Highness!" Zazu said cheerily as Nala stood again, already yawning from the brief moment she'd let herself slip out of top gear. "We've got a big, big, big day ahead of us! Terrible shame about Simba...I've heard he's in a dreadful state. But I can't fault the poor rascal for taking a day off in his condition…and better that he doesn't infect the Mountain Pride too, eh?"

Nala debated whether or not to tell Zazu about the true nature of Simba's "sickness", but quickly decided against it. There were some rhinos that just weren't worth poking. "Morning, Zazu," she replied, choosing to ignore the rest of his babble for the sake of making this quick and painless. It wasn't like he wasn't used to that, anyway. "You mind if I ask a favor of you?"

"Certainly not."

"Okay. Can you go find…Lia?" Nala asked, going with the first name that popped into her head. "Yeah, can you go find Lia and bring her back here? There's something I need her to help me with."

Zazu nodded and began to stop, but then stopped and reconsidered. "This something wouldn't happen to be escorting our guests around the Pridelands, would it?"

_Damnit, Mom_, Nala found herself cursing silently. _Why couldn't you just keep your mouth shut for once?_ Strangely, her anger dissipated as quickly as it had appeared, and she felt the strangest urge to hunt her mother down and beg her for forgiveness for even thinking such a thing. Which was strange in itself, because her mother usually didn't have any problems with wasting words. In fact, it was more Nala herself who had to worry about that.

And here was the anger again, focused at herself this time. She gritted her teeth to keep from screaming with newfound rage, for the moment not really noticing how odd it was for her moods to be swinging like this. That moment ended when Zazu cleared her throat and brought her crashing back down again, this time even lower than before.

"Nala? Are you all right, Your Highness?"

"Yeah, I'm…I'm fine," Nala finally said, wanting very badly to just go back to bed and sleep for another day or two. Maybe she was getting sick just like Simba was supposed to be. At least she'd have an excuse for it if she did, though that silver lining didn't seem as bright as it should have. "And yeah, that's what it is. Can you go get Lia, please?"

"Well, I doubt that's really necessary," he countered, taking wing just long enough to touch back down on Nala's back and strike a regal pose. "I'm sure I could do a more than satisfactory job myself."

"No, Zazu, that's really…"

"Oh, pish-tosh. I'd be glad to help."

_Don't kill anything you're not going to eat,_ Nala told herself, repeating the maxim her mother had made sure was imprinted upon her brain from an early age. _Not even if they really, really freaking deserve it._

"Zazu, I really just need you to go find Lia…" she tried to say with something resembling composure.

"Never you mind, never you mind," he interrupted as he hopped back down to the ground again and motioned her away with an errant wing. "You just run along now, and I'll take care of everything over here."

_I bet I could choke him down if I had to, though. Couple bites, max._

Deciding to walk away before she got up the nerve to test that theory, Nala went off to find Lia herself. The whole way, her stomach was twitching like a cub with a bit too much sugarcane in his diet. Probably better that she left now, then. Wouldn't be very professional to blow chunks all over a foreign ambassador. Or for him to wake up to a public exhibition of the anatomy of a hornbill.

Nala's expedition was cut blissfully short when she found Lia still asleep in the den. Despite being a bit on the spacey side occasionally, Lia was just about the sweetest lioness Nala had ever met, and the only reason she was still single was because her greatest desire was to find a lifelong mate, rather than settle for a one-night stand every now and then. She was a month or two younger than Nala, and she had come into the pride four months earlier, after leaving her previous pride in search of new experiences. Ever since then, the two of them had been fast and close friends.

True to Nala's expectations, Lia was more than willing to lend Nala a paw for the day. "Yeah, sure, I can do that," she answered once Nala had woken her up and gone over the gist of the favor she needed. "When do you want 'em back?"

"I don't know, just…however long you can keep them out there," Nala replied.

Lia raised her eyebrows for a moment, but didn't ask questions. That was another one of her good qualities that Nala was finding immensely relieving right now. "Okay," she said. "I can probably push it till sunset. Would that work?"

"That'd be perfect," Nala sighed. Now that the load on her chest was starting to lift off a bit, she found that her fatigue was returning in force. "Thanks so much, Lia."

"No problem," Lia replied, though this time her voice had a bit of a concerned edge to it. "You feeling all right?"

Nala almost lied and said she was feeling fine, but the sudden dizzy spell that nearly sent her reeling into Lia's shoulder was enough of a hint to not bother. "Not really," she said quietly. "I don't know, I've been feeling really crappy all morning and there's still half a dozen other things I've gotta take care of and…"

"All right, all right, I get the picture," Lia interrupted with a grin. "Why don't you go see Rafiki? He was poking around here this morning for something or other…actually, I think he was looking for you."

After the events of the previous day, spending another minute in the company of that babbling nutcase was very low on the list of things Nala felt inclined to do. But Lia didn't know why that prospect was so unsavory, and considering how Mom had reacted, it was probably better that she didn't. Maybe if things didn't improve soon, Nala would tell her the full truth, but right now dealing with that was approaching Rafiki's place on her aforementioned list. In any case, Lia was probably right in telling her to go get checked out. She usually was with things like that.

"Think I will go see him," Nala said. "I'm sure it's just a cold or something."

"Hopefully, it's not whatever Simba has," Lia commented with a wry smirk. "Can you imagine what he's going through right now?"

Nala's stomach twinged twice, the first one with simple nausea and the second at Lia's words. Once again, the urge to spill all of her troubles on Lia and not just the abridged version was stunningly potent.

"No," Nala said, glancing back at the den for a moment. "But for the gods' sake, I hope I don't have to."

_Or there's no way we're swimming back down the creek we're up._


	5. Chapter 5: Small Talk

Oh, sweet. Underline function works now. Nice.

Yeah, anyway, I was inspired to finish this up tonight, mostly because the chapter I posted earlier today has already gotten me more total story hits today than on any other single day since I've joined the site. Which is, y'know, kind of insane. So here's your reward for making me feel important. Yay.

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**Chapter 5: Small Talk**

_Bored. I am bored. Bored bored bored bored. I _am_ bored. Bored am I. Am I bored? _

_Yes. I am bored. I am bored out of my freaking mind._

For the hundred-thousandth time, Simba shifted his head enough to look outside. His hind legs splayed behind him, his forelegs laid flat along his sides, and his chin resting lazily on the ground, he made a fairly respectable image of a lump of elephant fat. A lump of elephant fat that was cold. And hungry. And _bored_.

With a sigh that he'd nearly worn out after the dozens of times he'd used it, Simba let his eyes drop back to the ground again. He'd spent a lot of time staring at this ground today, hadn't he? This particular spot of ground. Not a lot going on around this particular spot of ground, though. A leaf here, a tiny blue bug there…yep, pretty much plain old ground. And he'd been staring at it, all right. All morning long. Because he couldn't look at the ground ten feet in front of him, because that ground was outside. And he couldn't go outside, because…

Shoot. Because…

Well, the point was, he couldn't go outside. Nala had told him so. But he couldn't do anything in here either. And that was just it, wasn't it? It wasn't really the fact that he was stuck in here that bothered him; he'd spent enough time running around from dawn to dusk to dawn again taking care of all the daily little screwups that came with being king to appreciate the few moments he got to just lie around and do nothing. But there was usually someone else there to do nothing _with_. Like Nala. Or Timon and Pumbaa. Even one of the other lionesses. They were fun to talk to sometimes. Especially because they were better than staring at the sunlit ground ten feet away and being bored bored bored bored _bored_.

…_screw it._

Simba got to his feet slowly, but surely. After stretching a bit and shaking the grit off his underbelly, he started padding forward, until he was right at the edge of the rim of sunlight that created an imaginary boundary between "stay here" and "don't go out there, where someone might see you". _Let's be honest with ourselves here, _he told himself. _The place is deserted. Nala's off taking care of business with Zazu, Timon and Pumbaa are out eating something, Nafasi and Changa are probably miles away and just as bored as I am, and the rest of the pride's probably hunting somewhere. There's no reason for me to stay cooped up in here._

He leaned forward, and his nose flashed in the sun. _If I'm careful, _he added as an afterthought. _I'll be careful_.

He stared cross-eyed at his nose for a little longer, then backed up again. Why did he feel guilty about leaving? He didn't use to. As a cub, he almost never did. And he was one now. Kind of.

_Because of Nala,_ he thought. _Because I don't want to stress her out anymore than I already have._ And that was almost enough to turn him around and send him back to the rear of the cave, to stay there and stare at the ground for the rest of the day and all the ones following. But not quite. Not when his head was aching and his paws were tingling and it was just about the most beautiful day outside you could possibly imagine. Not a cloud in the sky, not a speck of dust in the air, and the wind was doing that thing where it was blowing just hard enough to cool you off if you needed it. Beautiful, perfect day. And here he was, wasting it.

Okay, so he was a cub. One whose existence, technically, no one else knew about. Well…no one had to _know_ about him going outside, did they? Technically?

No, they didn't. He'd be careful, and he'd hide if anyone or anything got too close. And he'd come back in fifteen minutes. Just a quick walk out in the grasslands, and then right back inside. Yeah. That would be perfect.

Simba stuck his nose out one more time and inhaled. Nothing but the crisp, clean breeze and perhaps a distant scent of wildflowers wafted through his nose. "Good enough," he muttered under his breath. He glanced to the left, glanced to the right, and paused for a moment to give his conscience one last chance to object. It didn't.

_Well, all right, then. Fifteen minutes._

His first step was tentative, as if the rock beneath his paws was laced with hidden traps and spikes. He let his mind drift off for a bit imagining how awesome it would be if they _were _hidden traps and spikes all around Pride Rock, and then got back to the business of making sure no one else was around. The wildflowers smelled a bit stronger now, but they were bound to now that he was actually outside the den and the wind had picked up. And other than that wind picking up, there wasn't a sound to be heard.

_This is gonna be…_

He stopped himself just in time. _Don't say it, _he thought, making his voice as loud as possible inside his head. _You know what'll happen. You'll say, this is gonna…well, yeah. And then somebody'll show up and it won't be easy anymore. This is how the world works. Because…I don't know. Just don't say it._

So he didn't. He padded out silently into the grasslands and took a leisurely stroll around the perimeter of Pride Rock, never speaking a word aloud and jumping into the foliage every time he even thought he heard something. He tried to focus on enjoying his fleeting visit with the world at large like he usually would, but the more he walked, the harder it was to ignore how high the peak of the grassline craned above his head, how the pebbles he used to not even notice was big enough to stub a toe on now. The past day or so had been full of moments like this, where for just a second or two he forgot what had happened to him. Forgot that he was officially fun-sized now. And it sucked.

Well, it did. There wasn't really any other way to say it. He'd even thought it when he was supposed to be this size, when it was part of nature's design. Being small sucked, and anyone who said otherwise was exactly like he had been: putting out a protective aura of overconfidence so that his desire to be bigger wouldn't burn brighter than the sun.

Simba was ten minutes into that particular train of thought when he realized that he was twenty minutes into his now admittedly somewhat irresponsible jaunt. His cheeks bulged out with the curse that jumped to the tip of his tongue, but to his credit he held it in and kept his silence. He did ratchet his pace up to a slightly noisy jog on his way back to Pride Rock, though.

And maybe that was what did it. Maybe he was making too much noise as he climbed back up the path leading around to the sick cave that his adult self was supposed to be passed out in. Maybe a small yellow outline against a monstrous sun-bleached brown one was more notable than a larger one would've been. Maybe he was just unlucky. But there was one thing he knew, and it was this: at no point, from the moment the first blades of grass tickled the pads of his paws to the second he reached the small flat clearing right outside the entrance to the cave, did he even think the words, "That was easy." So all those gods sitting up above waiting for him to tempt fate could go suck on a pair of ostrich eggs.

"Hey! What're you doing up here, little guy?"

Of course, that fact didn't make him any less screwed. But at least he wasn't giving some higher power the satisfaction of ensuring that he was screwed. Nope, this was completely, one hundred percent his fault. Great. That made it all _much_ better.

Simba figured that turning around slowly like his instincts were instructing him to would only make the lioness who had caught him even more suspicious, so after a moment's pause to make sure his face was as innocent and stoic as possible, he craned his head back as if it were just a good friend with a quick question that was standing behind him. He imagined it was Nala behind him, actually, and that made a lot easier to fake being aloof. And as it turned out, this lioness even looked like her a little bit around the muzzle, so that helped too. Maybe if he could remember her name…

"You looking for your momma, little guy?" she said before he got a chance to think much beyond that. "She's probably still out on the hunt…can you tell me her name, sweetie?"

Simba had to remind himself of what he looked like to keep from laughing. He could only imagine how differently this lioness would be acting if she knew who he really was. Whoever she was. Come on, this couldn't be that hard to remember…well, at least that was one positive of being a runt. No one expected him to know everyone in the pride by name, as he most likely should have by now.

"Aw…little bit shy today, sweetie?"

Simba blinked. He hadn't ever answered her, had he? Well, disaster averted there, he supposed.

"Come on," the lioness continued, starting to pad towards him again. "Let's get you back to the nursery."

It occurred to Simba what was about to happen roughly a half second after it was too late to do anything about it. By the time he opened his mouth to protest, the lioness's teeth were closing around his neck and his legs were dangling uselessly beneath him. And the next thing he knew, he was being carried away by the nape of his neck, presumably to the nursery to be placed amongst the other cubs. Imagine, the king of Pride Rock completely at the mercy of one of his constituents. He would've commented on how ironic the whole situation was, if he hadn't been possessed by an increasingly strong desire to claw the throat out of whoever was stupid enough to be the first one to mention it.

Without any better idea of what to do, Simba relented and allowed this lioness to continue walking, with him still clamped in her jaws. He did his best not to squirm, partially because he was still trying to keep his focus on not giving away his true identity but mostly because he was rediscovering how it stung like all get out whenever he did. He'd always thought it was just his mother and father who kept so firm a grip when they picked them up…nope, it was everyone. Chalk up another point for the "being little blows" side of this affair.

Thankfully, the trip around Pride Rock to the nursery was a short one. Simba tried to get his legs under himself in time to make a smooth landing when the lioness set him down, but his forelegs were just slow enough to stand by and watch as he fell flat on his face. The lioness cooed and someone out of sight snickered, and Simba's face burned under his fur. But he wasn't quite ready to give this round up to karmic rebalance from the little middle-toe to the gods he'd just displayed a minute before, though. So he pushed himself back up quickly and calmly, a distinct air of "I totally meant to do that" dripping from his jowls.

"You okay there, honey?" the lioness said, her bottom lip quivering with a barely repressed giggle. Simba blew out a sigh and plastered on a tight-lipped grin, so she'd hopefully get the hint and stop talking.

"Aww, you're a tough little guy, aren't you?" she gushed with a shake of her head. "All right, you run along and play now. I'll be right over here if you need me, okay, sweetie?"

Simba debated whether or not to bother with a sarcastic response, but he decided against it on the grounds that she probably wouldn't pick up on that any more than she had his subtlety. There was also the added fact—as in, the one he had just remembered—that he was supposed to be a mute. Two very good reasons to shut up and play nice, he told himself.

Or at least, with her. The three young cubs staring at him were probably fair game. After all, it wasn't like they would know or care what Nala had told Nafasi. And if they did tell someone…well, no one would believe them. Probably. There was only one thing Simba knew for sure right now, and that was that he wasn't going to spend the rest of his day lying around in the nursery and not speaking to anyone. He'd already gone crazy enough from wasting his morning in the sick cave.

"Hi," he said casually. _Coolly_, said the little narrator in his mind.

"Hello," the cub closest to him replied stiffly. He was the largest and most likely the oldest, with golden-brown fur and a cocoa-colored tuft beginning to poke out over his sharp grey eyes. Behind him were another two cubs, a boy and a girl. Both looked a couple months younger than the first cub and had nearly identical blue eyes and tan fur. The only way Simba could even tell them apart was that the boy had a slightly larger tuft that hung over his brow a bit.

"Why are you here?" the older cub asked. He sounded suspicious, and the two cubs behind him matched his furrowed brow and curled lip almost perfectly.

"Well…" Simba began to reply before it occurred to him that he didn't have a clue what to say. _What would a cub have been doing wandering out of the nursery?_ "Y'know, I was just…walking around, and I got caught." He put on a rebellious smirk and rolled his eyes for effect. "Ugh…grownups, right?"

"I meant, why are you here at Pride Rock?"

_Okay. Totally wasn't prepared for that. Crap. _"Uh…"

"Because you've never been around here before," the other cub continued. "And King Simba hasn't declared any new members of the pride or adjusted the hunting party, so you didn't come here with a rogue. So who are you?"

_. _"I was too here!" he argued back. "I just don't come over here much, that's all."

"Because?"

"Because…I get to stay in the den."

"All day?"

"Yeah."

"Because?"

"Because I'm…special. I don't know."

"You don't know if you're special?"

Gods, this cub was annoying. "Look, I asked my mom if I could just stay in the den while she was gone, and she said yes. And she didn't tell…whoever that was back there…"

"Kali."

"Yeah, whatever." _Add that to the list of names I should've remembered. _"My mom didn't tell Kali, so now I'm here."

The other cub's stare was still impressively blank. "Wow."

"Yep," Simba finished with what he thought was an equally impressive glare.

The other cub didn't move for another second or two, and then he gave a noncommittal shrug, as if asking Simba who he was and where he came from and what he had for breakfast the forty-second day of last year was simply not worth his time anymore. "All right," he said. Simba waited for him to introduce himself, and ten seconds later he clued in on the fact that the cub wasn't going to.

"All right," Simba repeated, taking the initiative for lack of any other ideas. "What's your name?"

"Akili," the cub said. "And they're Haraka and Baraka," he continued, as the pair behind him nodded in tandem. Simba couldn't help but notice that Akili didn't ask what his name was in return, which he found himself not minding as much as he might have normally. It saved him the trouble of having to make something up, at least.

But now came the difficult part: how the hell was he going to get out of here? Or barring that, how the hell could he stand another six hours in the company of Misanthrope Boy and the Siamese Twins here?

_Just act like a cub. Do what a cub would do. Goof off._

With the fresh idea in his head still screaming to be acted upon, Simba crouched down low to the ground and put on a wild grin. "So, Akili," he drawled. "How fast are you?"

The only part of Akili's face that moved were his eyelids, the lashes flickering shut slowly and deliberately. "Fast in what way?" he said.

"You think you can outrun me?"

"I doubt I'll be inspired to try."

Simba's tail, unconsciously stuck high up in the air behind him, stopped in mid-twitch, but only for a moment. "Well, you don't have to be inspired…" he continued, shuffling around to Akili's left side and watching the cub's head swivel around to follow his progress. "All you have to do…is do it!"

Simba jumped forward, paws outstretched through Akili's flank. _Tag, _he thought, a spark of childlike glee weaving in between his ribs. _You're i-_

The space once occupied by Akili was now suddenly and inexplicably empty. Simba adjusted soon enough to avoid a second faceplant, but it wasn't until he got himself turned around again and his playful growl ended its brief life in the back of his throat that he realized what had happened. Namely, that Akili had casually stepped out of the way just as Simba had jumped at him.

Simba's eyes narrowed, and he pounced again. Once again, Akili stepped to the side, saying nothing but looking at him with a mildly curious but mostly lethargic expression, as if there was a particularly large bug crawling up the side of Simba's face and he was content to just see how long it took him to notice.

"What are you doing?" Simba asked, deciding to be confused for the time being rather than annoyed.

"Declining inclusion in your vacuous display."

To his credit, Simba only let his jaw hang open for a moment or two. Assuming a moment could last for about five seconds. "The…what?"

"I don't wish to be 'it'."

"So…you don't want to play tag?"

"That's what I just said."

Damn. There went his jaw again. "Well…what do you want to play?"

"What do you mean by that?"

"What do _you_ mean, what do I mean by that? How do you guys play around here?"

Akili gave him a look, but like all his looks, it only had the slightest tinge of an emotion to it. This one looked a bit like sympathy. "By 'play', I assume you're referring to some sort of competition involving a lot of running around for the purpose of pursuing a series of arbitrary achievements?" he replied, with a condescending air to his tone that unlocked a primal sort of bloodlust in Simba's mind.

"Sure, what the hell," Simba answered back curtly.

Akili smiled, and Simba was suddenly struck by a mental image of the cub being slapped across the face by a goldish-brown paw that very much resembled his own. "In that case, I'm afraid I'll have to disappoint you again," he intoned. "You see, we don't exactly, as you say, _play._"

_I'm sorry, I must have missed the meet-and-greet earlier,_ Simba wanted desperately to say. _What planet is this, again?_

"What is that supposed to mean?"

"It means we prefer to occupy our time with more refined activities," the cub, who was only a couple inches taller than Simba, explained. "I mean, cavorting about in mindless indulgence of hedonistic ideals…well, it's all rather childish, isn't it?"

"But…you _are_ a child," Simba replied in an incredulous deadpan.

"Now, that's all quite relative, isn't it?" Akili countered. "Did Habari the Fourth's age keep him from leading the Highgrass Pride to victory at Mashamba Ya Siri?"

"Who did what now?"

"Oh, let's not waste our time with him, Akili," a new voice interjected. It was the twin on the left, the boy, Baraka. Or maybe Haraka. "He must be nine months old, and he doesn't even have the most rudimentary knowledge of provincial history."

"Oh, come on…it's not like it's really that important to know…" Simba muttered, unconsciously denying the fact that he probably should've known whatever it was they were talking about, judging by all the crash courses in diplomacy he'd been rushed through after Scar's fall.

"On the contrary, my friend," Akili chuckled. "Why, without the past we have no present, and without a through comprehension of previous-"

"Yeah, all right, I'm just gonna...stop you right there," Simba said loudly, having officially had it with this little prodigy. "You don't play. Got it. So what do you do for fun?"

Akili took the interruption in stride. "Well," he said, "this morning we were discussing classical religious doctrine in contrast with the larger metaphysical concepts of personal culpability and karmic rebalance."

Simba's jaw was more or less in a perpetual state of slackness by now. _I'm dreaming, _he thought._ Or insane. Or both. Good gods above, I would really love to be both right now._

"We were going to move on to discussing the local sociopolitical state in light of King Uongo's collaboration with the Eastlands dingo packs, but _someone_ wouldn't admit that polytheism is a pedantic and parochial pratice better suited to rogues and cattle than a cultivated and cultured pride such as this," Haraka (or Baraka) said bitingly. It was the same cub who had spoken before, in any case. The male one. Probably.

"And as I explained to you before, the gods existing as an concept is what ensures their persistence in our society," Akili argued back patiently, turning away from Simba entirely. "At the very least, faith in a collection of altruistic deities inspires the masses to act in accordance with those ideals the gods epitomize."

"But you're missing the greater picture of spiritual advancement! A prescribed set of ancient morals limits and conditions the leonine conscience to be a follower, not the leading force this territory requires it to be."

"Are you insinuating that our pride doesn't have a leader?"

"I'm saying that the one we have now doesn't seem to have the fortitude to make the necessary choices once they become apparent."

Later, when he had regained the ability to be honest with himself, Simba would admit that he didn't have even the faintest idea what the two cubs were talking about. But he could certainly remember the point where he started trying to figure it out; it was right around the time when they started talking about him.

"Oh, come now," Akili said, surprisingly taking on a defensive air. "It's highly impractical to judge King Simba on what you think he would do in a situation he hasn't encountered yet."

"Well, who else is going to think about it?" the twin argued back. Simba had by now completely given up on trying to piece together which one it was. "It's not like His _High_ness has spent any time considering the formation of a competent government or a decision on social policy. And don't even get me started on wartime strategy…"

"What _about_ wartime strategy? With whom would we go to war?"

"I'm not talking about us going to war. I'm talking about war coming to us. The first year of a new king's reign is the most volatile scenario imaginable. If we aren't attacked by winter's end, he'll be the luckiest king in history."

"I don't think you're giving King Simba credit where it's due."

"For overthrowing Scar? A drunk monkey could've outmaneuvered that buffoon, and quite frankly I don't know why the one we have didn't bother to try. Simba isn't any worse than Scar, but he hasn't proven yet that he's any better either."

Suddenly, Simba's burning tongue couldn't be restrained anymore. "I'm not…" he began to say before he caught himself. "He's not as stupid as you think. And he's sure as hell better than Scar."

"And what can you say that can prove that?" the twin snarled back, his patience obviously taxed with the newcomer to the nursery.

"He let you stay here," Simba replied in a low tone. "He didn't leave you and your family out in the grasslands to starve. And he didn't have to murder someone to take the throne."

"Oh, so Scar's just roaming around the Pridelands right now, happy as a humbug?"

"You know it's not that simple. It was self-defense."

"Says who?"

"Says…"

Gods above, what was he doing? This was the second time he'd almost let his true identity slip…and in an argument with a nine-month-old cub. Granted, a nine-month-old cub with a mind like a cheetah, but still. He was supposed to be more mature than this. What was he doing besides proving this cub right about him? He might not know who he was talking to, but Simba did. And he knew better.

_Can I just hit him once, though? No. Because that wouldn't be diplomatic. Damnit._

"That's right. Says Simba," the twin concluded with a derisive hiss.

The hell with diplomacy. _Do you have any idea who you're talking to, you little jerkoff? _Simba screamed inside his head, the words straining against the back of his throat. And as he glared at Baraka and tried to resist the urge to growl, he very nearly let them out, so it was probably lucky for all of them that the lioness who had forced Simba over here in the first place interrupted them at that exact moment.

"Boys! Play nice!" she called out, but without showing any indication of getting up and enforcing her order. Even if she had, by now Simba would've cut off his tail before being the first to back off, and by the looks of things his newfound rival was feeling much the same way. The searing chill in the twin's eyes only lessened, and even then only slightly, once Akili took charge.

"Let it go, Baraka," Akili said. Somehow, Simba was able to find a perverted sense of satisfaction in mistakenly having given the twin his sister's name in his mind. "You're grasping at reeds. Remember, the more you understand what you're talking about, the less you have to prove it to others."

Baraka only grumbled in reply, then stalked off. After a strangely prolonged glance in Simba's direction, his sister followed suit. Now it was just Akili and Simba alone in the nursery, with their lioness chaperone probably watching from afar. Meanwhile, he was still seething at a cub who'd probably just made several excellent points about his incompetency as king, and now he was alone with that cub's twice as smart and ten times as aggravating mentor and friend. Just the way he'd envisioned his day going.

"You'll have to forgive him," Akili said matter-of-factly, as if simply stating the patently asshole-ish nature of his friend made it all irrelevant. "He's got a bit too much confidence for his own good. As do we all, I suppose." He then turned to face Simba. "So, you were saying something about Scar?"

And that was that. Simba was officially done with interpersonal relations for the day. Quite possibly, the year. "Where are you going?" asked Akili as his king began to pad away.

"Just gonna go for a walk," Simba answered quickly, never turning around and never breaking his stride. "Far, _far _away from you," he muttered to himself soon after. Akili didn't pursue him; probably too busy contemplating the wonders of existential philosophy or some other incomprehensible intellispeak, thought Simba. Well, now his head was throbbing with all kinds of fun things like rage and confusion and an intense feeling of stupidity, and Akili would probably pick up on some subtle twitch in his left eye or something and figure out his name, age, and medical history within the hour. A walk out in the grasslands was sounding pretty damn heavenly right now.

Simba could feel the eyes of the lioness in charge zeroing in on his back the closer he got to the grassline. He was already plotting out a zigzagging path of escape through the foliage when he ran smack into a fuzzy, lion-shaped lump about his size.

_Oh, gods in heaven, I'm going to have to beat this child…_

"Ow…sorry…" the lump said. Simba blinked. That wasn't Baraka. That was…who the hell was that? It was another cub, that was for sure, a male with bright brown eyes and a yellowish-gold complexion that surprisingly looked a good deal like Simba's. Akili had been a little bigger than Simba and the twins had been a little smaller, but this cub was almost exactly his size. And he was staring at him.

"Wait, who are you?" the cub said somewhat bluntly. "Are you from another pride?"

"I'm nobody," Simba replied. "I'm just gonna go walk around now…"

"Nobody?" the cub interrupted as he stepped in front of Simba, his brow furrowed and his head cocked. "That's a weird name. Why do they call you that?"

Once again, Simba blinked. So not all of the cubs in his pride were geniuses. That was, somehow, a relief. "That's not my real…" Simba said. "That's not my name."

"Then what is it?"

"Sim…" _Shit._ "…ko. Pah. Kopa. Yeah, my name's Kopa."

"Simkopa…" the cub commented with a smirk. "That's not much better than 'nobody'."

"Oh, come on…"

"All right, all right, I'll call you Kopa…sheesh. I'm Chaka, by the way."

"Okay…hi, Chaka."

Chaka giggled. "Hi, Kopa," he said. "So where are you from, anyway?"

Simba eyed the golden-furred cub in front of him. He'd been on the defensive for pretty much his entire experience—he couldn't honestly call it a conversation—with Akili, so the barrage of questions from this new cub was raising more than a few alarm bells in his head. But Chaka's eyes were shining with nothing more dangerous than curiosity, and what seemed very much like just a naturally innocent friendliness. He reminded him so much of someone he was sure he'd met before, but he couldn't for the life of him remember who. It certainly wasn't any of the other cubs he'd encountered that day, though.

"We just got here a few days ago," Simba said. He figured that Chaka wasn't the type to be skeptical of his story, so he felt safe changing it up a bit from what he'd told Akili. "King Simba said we could stay, and my mom said I should make some friends, so I came over here."

"Wow…so you're from another pride?" Chaka asked with wide eyes. "That's so cool! Did you guys really eat your cubs if they weren't strong enough? Because that's what Nuka used to say other prides did before he went to the Outlands. I guess you weren't eaten, so you're probably pretty strong, right? 'Cause I'm pretty strong too. This one time, I pushed this giant rock into the watering hole and it made a humungous splash and everybody on the shore got _soaked_. It was awesome! Except my mom grounded me for a week and she had to eat a bunch of plants from Rafiki to make her stomach feel better, so I didn't do it again. That's my mom over there."

The cub turned away and pointed an oversized forepaw towards the lioness who had taken Simba over to the nursery. Once she noticed, she smiled and waved back at them. And for some reason, that was the point where Simba couldn't help but laugh.

"What's so funny?" Chaka asked, sounding more like he was disappointed that he wasn't in on the joke than bothered by the fact that he was more or less the punch line.

"It's just…" Simba said, trying to think of how to explain. "You're just so different from the other cubs, that's all."

Chaka's ears dropped, and he rolled his eyes. "Oh, you mean Akili?" he said. "Yeah, you looked like you were kinda dizzy when you ran into me. Akili's okay sometimes, but he always talks to you like you're not supposed to understand what he's saying. And Haraka's okay too, but she doesn't really ever talk to me. But Baraka's the one you gotta stay away from. He's so full of himself, I don't know how he's not fat as a…really fat elephant."

"Yeah, I kinda noticed that…" Simba added with a smirk. He was beginning to really like this cub, and not just because he could actually follow where their conversation was going.

"And it's not even like he's all that smart. He just uses a bunch of big words that Akili teaches him and acts like it makes him so awesome and, like, a genius and stuff. It wouldn't be so bad, except there's no one else to play with since Nuka left…"

There was that name again…and suddenly, Simba remembered what else Chaka had said about him. _He went to the Outlands_. Just the thought of the history behind that departure that Chaka didn't know about made Simba's paws clench and his stomach squish down away from his ribs. A whole third of what remained of his father's pride exiled because of their unyielding devotion to Scar…now _that_ was an embarrassment Simba was quite content to avoid thinking about entirely. Especially since he was now being reminded of the fact that he'd sent their cubs off to the barren wastes of the Outlands with them. Of course, it was perfectly rational to disapprove of their loyalty to the lion who had murdered his father and very nearly him too, but the hatred he'd felt for them had kept him up during more than a few nights since. But Chaka didn't know that, and there was no reason he should have. The Outlanders could be agonized over another day. Right now, he had an identity to maintain.

"Well, I could play with you…" Simba suggested. He was honestly a bit surprised when he realized that he was kind of hoping Chaka would like the idea. Which he did.

"Really?" the cub nearly shouted, his cheeks splitting into a toothy grin that seemed to lift his entire face up an inch or two. "Wow, this is so cool! We can do all kinds of stuff, like go swimming and play tag and…hey, can I show you my hiding place over here? It's where I go when Baraka gets really annoying."

Once again, Chaka's happiness was contagious. "Yeah, sure," Simba said. "That'd be great." Now he was finally realizing something else that had been tugging at a few dangling strands of his conscience for the last little bit: of course he knew who Chaka reminded him of. Take away the difference in legitimate age, and the little guy was just about a perfect clone of himself. It was like talking to his younger self while occupying his younger self's body; it was a somewhat surreal feeling, but a fairly exhilarating one. Like he had a complete personality now, as opposed to the split halves he'd had to make do with before. And…well, he was kind of looking forward to playing tag again. The kind of tag he and Nala played nowadays usually ended a little bit differently than the version they'd followed as cubs…not that he minded that change, of course. Not one bit. But if Chaka was willing to unknowingly indulge him in a brief trip back through his childhood, then he wasn't going to stop him. Because hey, in his position he had to take whatever carefree moments he could get in stride. So if that involved hanging out with Chaka and goofing off for a few days…well, if there was anyone on Earth better at goofing off than Simba, he needed to get in on this too.

"All right!" Chaka beamed. "But first…" Thanks to the cub's complete and utter transparency, Simba had a second or two of warning for what Chaka was going to do, but it wasn't enough to dodge away from Chaka's swinging paw. "Tag! You're it!" Chaka shouted as he sprinted off, a giddy laugh echoing all around him the whole time. Simba found a playful growl rising in his own throat, and soon enough he was chasing right after him, without even a single corner of his mind thinking about the steadily growing list of ways his life had gone to heck on a rhino's back in the couple days. It was easy, just running with Chaka in the vast freedom of the open Pridelands; it was like being with Nala, except as they had been when they were just inseparable best friends. Back when everything was innocent. Back when nothing could ever go wrong. Back when they were cubs.

So for a few blissful hours in one blissful afternoon, Simba was able to act like a cub again. And for that same blissful period of time, he was able to forget the fact that he wasn't one.

• • •

The evening was already well underway by the time Simba and Chaka finally returned to Pride Rock, and the screeching songs of the crickets hidden away in the quickly extending shadows were no match for the lively, rambling conversation still going strong between the two like-sized lions. Simba hadn't felt this clearheaded since he had left the jungle, and while the perks of kingship quite often trumped those of Hakuna Matata—the latter of the two was, after all, the only one that required bachelorhood—spending the day with a cub young enough to still have a few fading spots lining the insides of his legs was proving to be much more relaxing than he ever would've expected.

Their day had certainly been a full one: Chaka had dragged Simba all across the Pridelands and back again, showing him weird rock after secret cave after ornery three-toed sloth that didn't like having his tree shaken by two manically laughing lion cubs. And after all of that activity, both of them were almost too exhausted to make it back home before moonrise, a fact that just gave Simba an inexplicable feeling of warmth and comfort inside his chest. He supposed it could just be all the accumulated stresses of the past six months and two days seeping out through his fur and dissipating into the midnight air, but he found himself preferring much more to think of it as just the knowledge that he'd found at least one other lion besides Nala who would make this thing he was going through bearable.

The journey home, however, brought forth a whole mess of conflicting emotions in Simba's mind, most of which were simple enough to have to do with reentering his old world of responsibility. The rest of them split time between the kind of bureaucratic nightmare far worse than the ones that only involved you giving a speech to a thousand listeners with all the fur on your back legs gone, and a different breed of excitement that centered around a cream-furred lioness with a wonderful smile and soft green eyes that practically glowed in the dark. That was what he tried to focus on now, and as it always did, thinking about Nala did wonders for his nerves. At the very least, he always told himself, he had her behind him. And now, he supposed he had Chaka too, in a matter of speaking. But Nala still took precedence. Nala was still his anchor in any storm he'd ever stumbled into and every future one he ever would.

He parted from Chaka once they reached the entrance to the den, after confirming that he'd be ready to go exploring again tomorrow at sunrise sharp. Once that was done, he started making his way up the winding path leading up to Pride Rock's summit, knowing that Nala was almost certainly up there waiting for him. His instincts didn't fail him; she was there all right, her fur bathed in the light in the luminescent crescent moon she faced and her ears curiously flattened just enough for it to be noticeable even in the dark. A touch of apprehension fluttered in Simba's stomach, and evolved into a swarm of concern once he lay down beside her and saw how red her eyes were around the edges. For a moment, he was paralyzed. Usually, whenever she was upset about something he would just pull her into a gentle embrace and hold her until the feelings had passed. But that sort of thing generally required the embracing partner to be at least in the same neighborhood in the matter of size. That was going to be a pretty big problem here.

"Hey, Nal," he whispered. Nala glanced over at him for a moment, but either couldn't keep his eyes in hers or just didn't want to. Regardless, he was officially terrified now.

"Nala, what's wrong?" he continued, keeping his hesitation out of his voice as much as he could. As the silence lengthened once more, he took her closest paw in both of his and squeezed. Her throat twinged horribly when she squeezed back with what felt like all her strength.

"Thought I told you to stay inside today," she murmured, still not looking at him. Simba could tell she was just stalling, but he answered her honestly anyway.

"I didn't mean to leave," he said. "I poked my head out and someone saw me. No one knows who I really am, if that…means anything."

Nala nodded vacantly, and this time gifted him with a strangely wide-eyed glance in his direction. Now she didn't look upset as much as she just looked scared.

After the longest pause of all, Nala cleared her throat, and that seemed to steady her somewhat. "I went to see Rafiki today," she said in a clear voice.

"Is he working on the antidote?" Simba couldn't help but ask.

"He's trying, but he hasn't had any breakthroughs yet."

"Okay…" Another gap in the conversation. "So was it for a checkup, or…"

"Yeah, he…wanted to see me about that anyway."

"How'd it go?"

"How'd it…yeah, fine. It went fine. Just, uh…there was one thing that he…"

Finally, she met his eyes. And Simba wasn't quite sure how, but the reason behind her distress was now all too clear.

"You're pregnant," he said.

"I'm pregnant," she confirmed with what looked and sounded like a wince.

Both lions blew out a long, heavy sigh, and with good reason: Simba felt as though he'd just been flattened under a thousand-pound boulder. And the funny thing was, there was a part of him that wanted to just scream with happiness. He was going to be a father!

Yeah. But he'd also be the size of a nine-month-old cub. And the cub might be his child, but he could never be their father. Not like this. And Nala knew that.

"I thought I'd be happy," Nala whispered suddenly. The tears Simba hadn't witnessed before were returning again.

"Maybe we still can be," Simba countered, though even he thought it was a weak attempt. "I mean, Rafiki'll fix…this, and then we can just live out a normal life together…"

Nala tried to smile. She really did, and Simba could tell just from how forceful the tremble in her lips was. But soon enough, her face fell and she looked away again. And with that, another horrible truth sunk deep into Simba's throat: without physical contact, he didn't even know how to talk to her about it. He didn't know how to talk to his own mate.

Well, what did that mean? If he were normal-sized, if none of this had ever happened, there would be no need to do without it. Whispering to one another in the privacy of each other's forelegs was natural. It was what lovers were supposed to do. But with that out of the picture, what was there left? Had they ever had just a simple conversation? Had they ever relived that deep, binding friendship they'd had as cubs, something that was based on affection and not just passion? He knew they craved one another…but was that the same as being in love? Was it different?

No, he loved her. There was no question about that. He couldn't imagine spending another day of the rest of his life and anything beyond that without her. But he had always showed it with actions, not words. There was no action possible now. So he'd either have to learn, or watch her grow more and more distant until she was raising her children—their children—in the company of another pride. In the company of another lion. Gods above, he was almost sick just thinking about it.

"Hey," Simba murmured said. "I…"

And there was nothing. He'd had some idea about how he would reassure her that he was still happy that they could have this new adventure together, how we would promise to stay by her side in whatever form he so happened to be in. But he was empty. He didn't know what to say, or perhaps simply couldn't say it. And if there was any part of this whole ordeal that he knew he couldn't possibly bear, it was the look that flashed into his mate's eyes when he trailed off and fell silent before he hardly even began to speak. The look of despair, of hopelessness. Of someone who had already given up on being happy again.

They stayed on the summit for a few minutes longer, and then Nala got to her feet, mumbled something that sounded like "good night", and slipped away into the night. And a half-hour later, when Simba finally rose as well, he had only one singular thought trapped between his ears:

_Please fix this, Rafiki. Please, please, please find a way to make us happy again._

_

* * *

_

Yeah, the ending. Sucked, I know, but you know how every comedy has one serious component to it? Well, this is that. The main focus is and will continue to be humor, but there will also be a significant amount of relational and personal development for Simba along the way as well. On a somewhat similar note, I'm somewhat embarrassed at how many of you guessed this "twist" before I put it in. Then again, I wasn't really meaning for it to be a tremendous surprise, so...whatever.

Two quick answers to anticipated FAQ's (read as: I'm going to tell you this regardless of whether you care or not): I took quite a bit of inspiration from other authors in the fandom for these last two chapters. Simba's body position at the beginning of this chapter is taken directly from Azdgari's avvie, which I've always loved for some reason, and those of you who've read Nielae's fantastic story _Playing Favorites_ (seriously, read all of her stuff; she's awesome) probably recognized the name Lia from there. The character herself is completely original, but in a moment of laziness, I borrowed the name from that story. Thanks in advance for not hurting me, Nielae. :D

Secondly, the names Kopa and Chaka are just nods to the various names that Simba's retconned son(s) have taken on over the years. They don't mean anything special with regard to that particular bit of canon; they're just a bit of self-referential humor. That's all for now.


End file.
